


The Accidental Vessel

by alatarmaia4



Series: Vessel 'Verse [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Also Gabriel Has A Foul Mouth, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because SOMEONE had to fix all the disasters in Supernatural, Character Death Fix, Crossover, Gen, Gender Neutral Character, Minor Character Death, Season 10 AU, minor Loki!Gabriel, some technically OCs for flavor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 01:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 75
Words: 306,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4646655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alatarmaia4/pseuds/alatarmaia4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel might have made a mistake when he borrowed pagan weapons to make a fake angel blade, but he'd thought it would be enough to trick Lucifer. Well, it was, but now the archangel find himself set adrift on another Earth. With his Grace almost gone and unwillingly possessing Harry Potter, what can Gabriel do? Maybe Hogwarts will be enough to distract him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this story is basically my baby and I finally finished it and thought 'Well, I should probably put this on my Ao3 account too'. I mean in my own opinion [and most of the opinions of people who have read it] it's a pretty good story. So let's see what kind of reception it gets here!
> 
> Also, yes, that does say chapter 1 of 75. It's six years of Hogwarts in one story so....yeah. This monster took a year to finish.
> 
> As a note, there's a LOT I haven't put in the tags to try and avoid spoiling people before they even start reading it. But there's a lot more, mostly characters, that I haven't included because they come in way, way later. So look forward to surprises as you read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this story is basically my baby and I finally finished it and thought 'Well, I should probably put this on my Ao3 account too'. I mean in my own opinion [and most of the opinions of people who have read it] it's a pretty good story. So let's see what kind of reception it gets here!
> 
> Also, yes, that does say chapter 1 of 75. It's six years of Hogwarts in one story so....yeah. This monster took a year to finish.
> 
> As a note, there's a LOT I haven't put in the tags to try and avoid spoiling people before they even start reading it. But there's a lot more, mostly characters, that I haven't included because they come in way, way later. So look forward to surprises as you read.
> 
> EDIT: So recently I have decided to MASSIVELY overhaul and edit this story, since I literally never edited it originally. This means a lot of stuff might change! Don't worry - the original will remain as it is on my ff.net account. Basically, I have the story saved in chunks on Google Docs (just in case) so I'll edit those, and as I finish each chunk I'll replace the chapters here with the edited versions. If things go a little screwy, be patient! I'll fix it asap.
> 
> Enjoy!

Gabriel wasn't sure where - or even  _ when  _ \- he was.

What he  _ was _ sure of was that it had been an absolutely  _ horrible  _ idea to listen to Dean Winchester.

Because, really, going up against Lucifer? That had been stupid, even if Gabriel had used a fake angel blade - which turned out to be the luckiest decision he'd made all night, since it was the only thing that had kept him from being actually killed.

Even so, something was very wrong.

Gabriel sighed and glared down at the town he was standing over. He was perched on top of an old oak tree nearly as tall as him, which didn't make sense because his true form was larger than the planet Jupiter and most definitely nowhere near the size of a  _ tree. _

Gabriel blamed it on the fake blade he'd been stabbed with.

Sure, he'd made it out of some questionable substances, but it had needed to be powerful enough to trick Lucifer. And it wasn't like any of the pagans had been using their weapons -  _ Mercury  _ certainly wasn't going to put that staff to use, and Balder had lost his sword enough times that it wouldn't have mattered either way whether he'd lived or not.

But maybe he should have been a bit more careful about, oh, not getting stabbed with it. Who knew what the consequences might be.

Gabriel glanced back down at the Earth absentmindedly - and was this even the same one he'd been on earlier? His Father had created so damn many of the things, you couldn't swing a cat without hitting one of them. Mostly, Gabriel had kept to the first Earth, since it was the first one he landed on after skipping out of Heaven and interplanetary travel - or was it technically trans-universal? - would have drawn the exact kind of attention he was trying to avoid.

But first things first. Gabriel needed to find - and probably salvage - his vessel. After that, he'd worry about the fallout from what happened at the Elysian. After all, he wouldn't be able to do much if he didn't even have a body.

His wings, however, didn't seem to be working properly, and when Gabriel tried to fly away all he managed to do was unbalance himself and nearly topple over a few feet to the right of where he'd previously been.

"Ah, sh-!"

Gabriel attempted to regain his bearings and found himself directly outside a house that he was sure hadn't been there a moment ago.

Huh.

There was a figure in a black cloak sweeping up the sidewalk, and even though Gabriel had noticed the Halloween decorations littering the other houses nearby he didn't think the figure was there for trick-or-treating. The man's soul also made him frown, because there was quite a lot less of it than there should have been, except it was impossible to break a soul.

Gabriel seemed to have landed himself in the middle of some sort of crisis.

The man did something to the door which made it swing open - possibly he'd just turned the knob - and the other two souls inside the house flared with panic, one quickly moving to the second floor. There was also a third soul, which was rather young, and had been carried upstairs with the second, distinctly female one.

There were shouts coming from the entryway, and as green light flashed from inside the door once of the souls inside flared and faded. Gabriel glanced towards where it had been sharply, then up at where he could sense the other two.

It was easier to fly up to the roof than it had been for him earlier, and Gabriel landed on it at the exact moment that Missing-Half-His-Soul burst into the same room as the two that were left.

There was another shout, another flash of green light, and the second adult soul vanished.

Gabriel frowned, but before he could attempt anything, the roof exploded.

Gabriel winced at the unpleasant feeling of rubble going straight through him, instead of being deflected like it would have had he been at full power. Peering into the giant, gaping hole the explosion had created, he saw that directly under it was a crib which held a black-haired baby whose soul was guttering on the verge of going out.

There wasn't a single trace of the man who had gone in there earlier, unless the pile of black cloth on the floor was all that was left of him.

Gabriel observed all of this in a moment and only realized that something was off when he tried to lean away and found that he couldn't.

There was some sort of force acting on him, dragging him closer to the room (or more specifically, the nearly-dead baby) and Gabriel spotted the faint light of a runic circle under the rug which the crib stood on.

_ Fuck. _

Even worse, Gabriel thought he recognized some of them.

Gabriel seized the roof but it didn't do anything to stop him being dragged closer. That circle was meant to protect whoever lay in it, and either whatever had happened in there had messed it up, or it just mistook Gabriel's reduced Grace for the baby's soul. Either way, Gabriel was most definitely not planning on going anywhere near possessing a  _ child. _

"I  _ can't! _ I don't have permission! I'll be trapped!" If the rune array managed to override the natural laws of angelic possession, that was. Shouting didn't seem to do much good, so Gabriel switched to his Grace to try and change the spell, but even that failed.

Gabriel swore, barely hanging onto the roof and his form growing smaller and smaller as if in preparation to possess the baby. This stupid magic was going to drag him into this kicking and screaming, and  _ nothing  _ he was doing was working. It was a uniquely terrifying situation.

Being trapped in the body of an infant was not on Gabriel's list of priorities, but it was becoming more and more obvious that he didn't have a choice in the matter.

His hands - or rather, the equivalent of them that he had in his true form - slipped off the roof.

The resulting explosion, not of fire or spellwork but of light, lit up the surrounding Muggle neighborhood for miles.

In the ruins of the house, everything was silent.


	2. Letters and Relatives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally I was planning to update this story Monday/Friday since I've got it all written out already, but since it's still summer and that's more to keep this ordered once I'm back at school I figure an update now can't hurt. At this point I was still sort of ad-libbing things but the chapters will get longer later, I promise :)

Harry Potter was a strange little boy; everyone on Privet Drive knew _that._

They had all heard about how he'd been left on the Dursley's front steps when he was a baby, though everyone disagreed as to whose child he really was. Mrs. Number Seven said that he was the son of some man her father had met, rich and influential, who trusted the Dursley family to look after his son. Most disagreed, and the other neighbors all said some variant of how Harry was just the son of a distant relative who for whatever reason couldn't take care of him.

After all, why take in the boy if he's not a relative?

All of the children on Privet Drive (the few that there were, other than Dudley) avoided Harry, for the simple reason of his being, well, _odd._ Nobody, not even the adults, could quite pinpoint what exactly was so unnerving about the little boy. Maybe it was the way he always looked at people like he was judging them, or perhaps how he seemed to be strangely intelligent. The latter was always quickly dismissed, of course; he did terribly in school and could never seem to be bothered with doing his homework. But still, there was something pointed in his gaze, and some might had said he seemed older than he was...

So little Harry Potter grew up without very many friends, and none of the adults in his life really went very far to remedy that situation.

Gabriel didn’t care in the least. He was quite aware of how horrible his vessel's life was. On occasion, he was grateful that the child had been spared the horrible treatment, then quickly remembered that he was stuck in said child's body, and his resentment returned in a rush.

It hadn't been _his_ choice to possess the boy but _noooo_ , that damned ritual had taken over and he'd been forced into the body nonetheless. An angel was the exact opposite of a demon; they were physically incapable of possessing a body without permission. The ritual, and Gabriel's semi-powerless state had helped bypass it, but whatever the ritual had done had slipped the shreds of Harry Potter's soul into his Grace. Which meant that, for the time being, Gabriel was trapped.

In a _four year old's body._ A four year old’s at first, at least. And a _fictional_ four year old’s! Gabriel had never read the books, only heard of them extensively from friends, but this was still ridiculous.

Harry Potter might have been there as well, if not for two factors. One, his soul was in pieces. That wasn't something anyone ever recovered from. Two, Gabriel was an archangel.

It happened with all their vessels. An archangel was huge, their true form contained by only the right vessels. No matter how strong a human was, there simply wasn't room for them.

Even in Gabriel's reduced state, it took Harry Potter's soul only a month to be worn away by the stronger and more powerful being residing in the body.

As a result, he was seen as the odd boy out in most cases. Gabriel had struggled with his vessel for the better part of a year - it was immensely frustrating to be in a body that barely knew how to control its legs and arms, much less speak. And the way adults treated him - ugh. Gabriel swore that if he ever got out of this mess he was going back to Heaven and never taking another vessel like this again.

Occasionally he wondered what Harry Potter's life would have been like, had he not intervened. After the incident where he was locked in his room for looking at the uncle ‘strangely’ (and they would have put him in the cupboard under the stairs if Gabriel hadn’t nipped that idea in the bud) and the last shreds of Harry's soul were worn away by stress and the lack of any food or water, Gabriel concluded that the boy would have starved to death in the first week or so, and at least this way death had been less painful.

Gabriel spent most of his time trying to figure out who Harry's parents had been. Obviously the mother had been related to the people he'd been forced to stay with - the similarities between her and the woman who was Harry's cousin's mother was obvious, even with the little he had glimpsed of the dead woman's face. The man must have been where Harry got the majority of his appearance, because Gabriel was sure that such black, messy hair did not come from _this_ disgraceful side of the family.

He wasn't sure where the father had come from, though. Something magical had gone on in that house (the ritual, however terrible it was, was evidence enough for that) and Gabriel had absolutely no idea what.

He had never been too concerned with the Earths outside of the one he took shelter on. The majority of the angels concentrated on that one, since it was the first Earth their father had created. Interplanetary travel would have drawn more attention than he'd have liked, and Gabriel had been doing perfectly well under his disguises.

At least, until the Winchesters showed up.

Concerning the magical side of things, Gabriel had a lot of questions. Why were there unbelievably crappy wards surrounding the house Harry's relatives lived in? Why was he important enough to need wards? _Why_ had no one bothered to take the time to check on Harry? And most importantly, _what_ was preventing him from gaining his power back? Gabriel had been at his lowest in terms of angelic power ever since Halloween 1998. Something was preventing him from recharging as fast as he needed to. A fraction of his power had been restored in four years - at least so far - and he should have long ago been at full battery. Was the ward meant to prevent that? Or did it have some other reason? His limited resources made Gabriel unable to tell, and the overall helplessness of his situation sent him into the occasional monumental sulk. He was going to get his power back, and find the magical community, and get some serious answers.

* * *

 

As Harry got older, Gabriel learned more and more about how humans worked.

Specifically, they seemed to have retained their pack instinct from their time as neanderthals. Dudley had gained a group of friends as soon as he was old enough, who spent most of their time intimidating younger kids. Their favorite target was Gabriel, or at least he had been at first, but Dudley and company had only ever gone after him once. After they had utterly failed to find him for three hours, and then when they finally stumbled across him failed to land even a single hit, they had given up in disgust and never tried again.

This very conveniently left Gabriel to his own devices to try and figure out what the hell he’d used to fend them off, because it had _not_ been Grace.

He locked himself in his room (willingly, this time) and investigated, poking around the stubbornly faded remains of his Grace. It took almost three hours before he managed to narrow his perception enough to sense the little core of unfamiliar power that was nearly hidden among his Grace, and gave off the exact same impression that Harry Potter’s soul had.

 _This_ was the breakthrough Gabriel had been waiting for! It had to be the same stuff that had powered the ritual in the broken-down house. But try as he might, Gabriel couldn’t do much with it. It didn’t behave anything like Grace, nor the pagan power he used to command, and eventually Gabriel realized that there probably just wasn’t enough of it. The body he was occupying, and allowing to grow naturally, was only nine-ish. That was certainly too young to go about doing the kinds of things Gabriel was used to being able to do.

This was _infuriating._ The worst part was that there was _nothing_ he could do except wait.

Well, fine. He could wait. He could outlast anybody. It was only nine more years until he could legally leave, trapped in a relatively human state as he was, and then he’d be free of the terrible Dursleys to do whatever he wanted. He’d dealt with worse situations before.

Although, Gabriel thought morosely, nine years seemed an awful long time from his new perspective.

* * *

 

A week before Harry Potter's eleventh birthday was Dudley's, and as usual the event was completely over-celebrated. Gabriel sat at the table, not even sparing a glance at the plate in front of him. If the adults in the house ever noticed that he barely ever ate, they didn't comment on it, but Gabriel had a feeling it was connected to the reason they tried to avoid him at all costs.

There was a pile of brightly wrapped presents at the end of the table, cascading onto the floor and swamping half of the living room. Another one fell onto the floor as the thundering footsteps of the ridiculously obese Dudley Dursley sounded, and soon enough the boy slammed open the door and cast piggy little eyes over the scene.

"How many are there?" He asked loudly, focusing on the presents.

"Thirty-six," the uncle told him proudly. Gabriel wasn't sure what the uncle’s name was; he'd never bothered to learn it.

"Thirty-six?" Gabriel rolled his eyes as Dudley's face reddened. "But last year, last year I had thirty-seven!"

"Yes well some of them are quite a bit bigger than last year-"

"I don't care how big they are!"

"Diddykins," the aunt came over, Gabriel was mildly sure that her name was some sort of flower. "Don't worry, sweetheart, we'll go out later and buy you two new presents. How's that sound?"

"So I'll have thirty...thirty..."

"Thirty-eight," said Gabriel, attracting the human's attention all at once. They seemed to have forgotten that he was there.

"Mind your own business, boy," the uncle blustered, turning back away from Gabriel as the doorbell rang. "Who's that?"

'That' turned out to be P-something, one of Dudley's gang friends. Not literally a gang, but that was what they called themselves. Gabriel thought of them as about as terrifying as a load of ants.

"Where are we going today, Dud?" the boy asked, joining the club of pretending that Gabriel wasn’t there.

"The zoo," Dudley said, glancing up at the aunt, who nodded.

"What about him?" asked the uncle, jerking his head in Gabriel's direction.

"I've told you, Vernon," Oh, so that was his name. Gabriel promptly forgot it. "Mrs. Figg said she can't take him. He'll have to come with."

Gabriel sat bolt upright. Mrs. Figg was an old woman who liked her cats too much and who the Dursleys left him with every time they went somewhere. She once gave him cake that Gabriel was sure would have tasted dusty and stale, if he'd bothered to eat it. The cats weren’t too bad, though, just arrogant.

"What?" Dudley howled, and the only thing preventing a full-on tantrum was the presence of his friend.

Several minutes later, Gabriel found himself in a car for the first time in the last eleven years.

He hated it.

It was confining and slow, the seat belt dug into his neck, and even though he was sitting alone in the very back seat Dudley and P-whatever kept reaching back from the middle row of seats to hit his head.

The zoo itself was also horrible. Gabriel knew that the animals were there only because there was no other place for them, but when you'd been around when Earth was basically just a giant forest, seeing all these predatory animals behind bars was more than a little odd. He lost the Dursleys five seconds after they got through the entrance and had toured half the zoo before a security guard noticed that he was alone and the Dursleys were paged over the intercom.

The uncle had been steaming mad, and Gabriel half hoped that the guard would send Child Protective Services after the Dursleys, but he managed to keep his temper, and the scene that Gabriel was counting on never happened. Gabriel had tried several times before to provoke him and create some reason to get removed from the Dursley’s care, but it never worked. Powerless, it was much harder to arrange events to his liking.

When they got to the snake room, Gabriel decided it was his favorite, mainly because it was the only shady place in the entire zoo and therefore much cooler than anywhere else. He found a corner and sat down in it, enjoying the breeze that occasionally drifted by.

The only problem with this place was that it was right in between three different cages. Gabriel wasn't sure why the snakes in this world had a language, but it was very annoying to try and rest with them constantly going back and forth about who had gotten the better dinner. Animals, honestly.

Gabriel eventually poked his head up and hissed back at them, mildly surprised when the words came out as actual hisses.

" _Do you mind? I'm trying to get some rest here and you're being a bit loud."_

 _"A speaker?"_ One of them had said in surprise, but Gabriel just sat back down and ignored any questions they asked him. The zoo was much less interesting than Dudley had made it out to be. He wondered what the humans got out of this experience.

Gabriel's vessel's birthday came a few days later. He spent the day mostly in his room, avoiding the Dursleys, who were still upset that he had gotten away from them at the zoo. Avoiding them was fairly easy, but mostly he did it out of the house; he owned barely anything. Gabriel would’ve killed for a decent book, but even that wasn’t an option, except for a dictionary and a tattered Goosebumps novel Dudley had stolen from the school library.

The sky outside was barely dark yet, since it was summer and the sun didn't set until late in the evening, so the owl came as a surprise.

Gabriel stared at the bird perched outside his window for a moment. It pecked at the glass and was this owl actually irritated at him? Gabriel was fairly sure that owls were never meant to be this sentient. Cautiously, he opened the window.

The owl flew in and perched on his desk, right next to where he was sitting. Gabriel hesitantly reached out and poked it, making it flap its wings angrily. Well. At least now he was sure he hadn't been slipped some hallucinatory drug. Did this world have some kind of supernatural owl creature? Or spirit? It didn’t seem out of the ordinary to him, but Gabriel hardly trusted his senses to be up to their usual standard.

There was an envelope tied to the leg the bird was forcefully sticking out at him, and Gabriel grabbed it, using a miniscule amount of Grace to untie it without really thinking. The owl didn't leave, even after its message had obviously been delivered.

"Aren't you supposed to go now?" It gave him a severe look and started grooming itself. "I'm pretty sure that owls aren't supposed to act like this."

It continued ignoring him. Gabriel turned back to the letter and examined the paper. It had his vessel's name on it, with his room [and wasn't that a creepy thought] and the Dursley's address. Gabriel ripped it open, taking a moment to examine the seal. What was this, the Middle Ages? No one used parchment anymore.

The letter was also addressed to his vessel.

_Dear Mr. H. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment if you liked it, please!


	3. A Visit and Boredom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little early, but I'm enthusiastic.
> 
> These chapters are from so long ago... :/ but I'm not changing anything in the name of artistic integrity...I guess? Something like that. Anyway, technically I've finished all the editing. So you're getting the same thing everyone else got the first place I posted it.

Gabriel stared at the letter for several moments to be sure it still said the same thing. Then it clicked, and he leapt to his feet. Here was his chance!

Gabriel paced the room, talking animatedly to himself while the owl watched. He was questioning, thinking out loud, making up and discarding ideas as quickly as they came.

"But why now?" Gabriel asked, spinning back towards the desk where the letter lay. "Why contact me now, after years of no interference? Why do they want me at their school?"

He snatched up the letter again, rereading the heading. "Albus Pericval Wul- how many names does this guy have?" He scanned over it. "Does he have a title for each of them? Who decided it would be a good idea to let one guy have all this power?"

The owl hooted. Gabriel looked at it, having momentarily forgotten that it was there. "What?"

It nodded its head towards the letter. Stifling his curiosity over why the owls here were so smart, Gabriel looked back at the parchment. "What? I've read it."

The owl hooted in annoyance and Gabriel wasn't even going to think about how it was possibly conveying emotions. It hopped to the side of the desk and turned away.

Was it...sulking?

Gabriel decided to continue ignoring the animal.

He turned the letter over, rereading the pathetically short acceptance letter, and added another question to his list: why was the letter here? He'd never applied to any magic school, and if they came without applying, why was there only one? Gabriel eyed the signature, and wondered if he would be able to write back with all his questions.

It took half an hour to find a pencil that was decent to write with and another twenty minutes for Gabriel to find a clean sheet of paper. He wrote down all his questions in a row and, as an afterthought, addressed it at the top to said Deputy Headmistress. He rolled it up, and put the name on the outside.

The owl had already stuck its leg out, since apparently the whole point of it staying had been to take a reply. Gabriel haphazardly tied it on and the owl was on its way out the window. Gabriel watched it fly away, and thought of one more question.

Where, exactly,  _ was _ this school?

The doorbell rang in the middle of breakfast again.

"Who could that be?" Muttered the uncle, letting his newspaper fall slightly. "Go get the door, Dudley."

Gabriel watched with interest as Dudley immediately swelled with rage at being asked to leave his breakfast.

"I'll get it," said the aunt quickly, trying to avoid another shouting session. Her shoes tapped against the floor as she went down the hallway from the dining room to the door.

Her shriek startled all of them.

Gabriel stared at the door, wondering what could make the aunt scream like that, while the uncle and Dudley both tried to jump to their feet, upsetting the table badly. It would have fallen over, except it was falling towards Gabriel, who righted it just as the aunt walked stiffly in, followed by a woman in the strangest outfit. She was wearing robes, of all things, and a pointed hat of the same color.

"Who the ruddy hell are-" the uncle yelled, before the aunt hurriedly pulled him aside and whispered into his ear. They carried along like this for a minute or so, while the other three occupants of the room became engaged in a sort of staring war with each other.

Whatever the aunt had said, it was enough to take all three Dursleys very rapidly out of the room while the woman remained with Gabriel. She gave him a brief but thorough once-over, taking in the shabby but correctly sized clothes (he’d been able to do that much, at least) and the equally penetrating look Gabriel was giving her.

"I must say," she said. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Potter."

"Okay?" Gabriel wasn't entirely sure what was going on here. "Let me guess...you got my letter?" If she wasn't the Headmistress he'd written back to Gabriel would just leave.

"Indeed. Is there somewhere we can sit?" Gabriel showed her to the living room, sitting on the sofa while McGonagall took the uncle's favorite chair.

"Now." She fixed him with a look. "I did get your letter, and I was surprised at the amount of questions you had. Did your relatives not inform you about Hogwarts?"

Gabriel had to quickly search through his mind before remembering that Hogwarts was the name of the school. "Um, no. Why would they have?" He sincerely hoped that the Dursleys weren't magical.

McGonagall looked angry about something. "Those..." she muttered something under her breath that Gabriel was delighted to hear from such a stern-looking woman. There was hope for everyone, it seemed.

She took a deep breath. "Mr. Potter. Do you know about the magical world? What happened to your parents?"

"Well, I figured the Dursleys lied about them dying in a car crash." Gabriel could really care less about what had happened to the Potters. "And your letter so kindly informed me about the existence of magic, so yes."

McGonagall seemed to draw herself straight in preparation for something. "I suppose I will have to explain the whole story."

And she did. Honestly, Gabriel might not have cared, but it was an interesting premise. Magical terrorism and attempted genocide? Hm. Sounded like the beginning of a fantasy novel.

McGonagall took his silence as sadness. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." Gabriel shook himself out of his thoughts. "Just thinking. What about everything else I asked about?"

If there was any surprise in his quick dismissal of the story of how his parents died, McGonagall did not pressure him. She answered everything Gabriel could ask about, including Hogwarts. "Your name was put down by your parents shortly after you were born, Mr. Potter." Gabriel supposed he'd have to get used to being called that.

"What if I didn't want to go to Hogwarts?" The question seemed to shock McGonagall.

"Well-" she stopped. "Do you?"

Gabriel considered it. School. He'd been going for the past seven years and he still didn't like it. But magic school? The core he'd discovered inside himself was still untrained, and he couldn't do much with it. 

"I guess I do," he said eventually. It wasn't like he had many more options. His archangel power was still limited, even though it had grown since that night.

"Excellent." She seemed very relieved. "I have been asked by the Headmaster to take you shopping for supplies today, after I informed him that I would be visiting you." She stood up smoothly, far more agile than her appearance suggested her age to be. "If you would follow me?"

Gabriel had never liked following orders, but this interested him. The magic of this universe was something entirely new to him, separate from ordinary sell-your-soul witchcraft or hoodoo or anything that had existed on the last Earth Gabriel had lived on.

Not that Gabriel enjoyed it. Whatever McGonagall did to take them to the grimy pub, it was much worse than flying and Gabriel felt as if he were being squeezed through a tiny rubber tube. He stumbled as they landed with a  _ crack  _ and vowed never to use that mode of transportation again.

* * *

 

Diagon Alley.

_ Diagonally. _

Gabriel wasn't sure whether the name was a pun on purpose or not. Either way, it was the most ridiculous name he'd ever heard. He loved it.

McGonagall walked smartly up the cobbled road (how old-fashioned) which doubled back on itself so many times they had to have used magic to fit it all behind the bar. McGonagall had taken him quickly through that part of their journey, so that Gabriel had only gotten the impression of vague griminess and a morning crowd of people dressed like his chaperone.

"Come along, Mr. Potter." McGonagall tugged him towards the huge, white building at the end of the street. Gabriel bit back a retort and settled for pulling his hand away.

The bank was a welcome distraction. Gabriel had never had much to do with the creature races of the various realms he knew of, so goblins were fascinating. The path the cart traveled down underground was just as good, though still not nearly as fast as flying.

The vault wasn't quite as interesting. Gabriel swept a few piles of gold and whatever was stacked in front of it into the bag McGonagall handed over and that was that. Money was nothing to Gabriel; he'd most likely never use it aside from whatever he was forced to buy. Then again, he reminded himself, he’d have to keep up the charade here, especially when under the eyes of so many people. His vessel was famous, and that was a definite downside.

Robes were surprising, too. Gabriel wondered why they couldn't manage with just a simple cape. Robes were so old-fashioned. He’d only worn them, what, twice in the thirteenth century? Maybe some other time, though he wasn’t sure ancient Greece counted. 

He ran into a blond boy while getting fitted for his robes, who screamed ‘rich kid’ so loudly Gabriel largely tuned him out on instinct. The blond boy in the robe shop talked to him anyway, assuming that Gabriel was interested enough to hear him. The kid actually got mad at him for not listening. It might have been cute, if Gabriel weren’t bored out of his mind with the shopping trip as a whole. It had looked interesting, but McGonagall would only let him look at things that were actually on his list.

The books were alright (Gabriel had been forbidden from buying a book on runes, saying it was too advanced for him, but he slipped it into his bag anyway), but cauldrons? Gabriel almost groaned aloud at the list. A cauldron. Really. Didn't they have spells for those things by now? He hated using those. They were heavy and impractical.

The apothecary smelled horrible, too, and Gabriel discreetly cleared the air around his nose while he was forced to get ingredients. Were these really necessary? Why couldn't they just have the ingredients ready for them at the school? Actually seeing what some of the ingredients were made Gabriel determined to never drink a potion if he could help it. Who knew what some of those things would do to him.

Buying a wand was the only saving grace of the entire expedition. The shop practically vibrated with energy, and the threshold gave Gabriel a shock as he stepped across. The man was waiting in a corner, presumably Mr. Ollivander.

"Ah," he said, softly and very creepily. "Mr. Potter. I wondered when I'd be seeing you here." He flicked a hand at Gabriel, sending a tape measure towards him, which started measuring everything. Gabriel yanked it away from his face as soon as the man turned his back to disappear in between the shelves.

"I sold your mother and father their wands when they were your age," Ollivander's voice echoed through the shelves. "Your mother... willow, ten and three quarter inches. Very swishy, good for charms work. Your father..." His voice faded slightly as he got farther away. "Eleven inches, mahogany, excellent for transfiguration. I hear he favored the subject-" Ollivander slipped out of the rows next to McGonagall, who jumped slightly. "Did he not, professor?"

"He did," said McGonagall quietly. "If we could move on to getting one for Mr. Potter?"

"Of course," said Ollivander, moving to the counter and handing Gabriel a polished stick. "Cherry, ten and a half inches, core of unicorn horn...well, give it a wave."

* * *

 

An hour and some interesting revelations later, Gabriel had a wand.

It had cost him seventeen Galleons (Gabriel was sure Ollivander had charged extra for the time it took to find it) and was apparently made with the wood from an evergreen tree, and a feather from an unknown bird. Gabriel had accepted it warily, catching a series of engraved patterns along the handle that, when you looked from the proper angle, formed a series of nonsense runes. Or at least, that's what Ollivander told him, though the old wandmaker winked at Gabriel as he left the shop.

McGonagall, who was beginning to look tired herself, walked him to the Leaky Cauldron. Gabriel convinced her that he could look after himself well enough to get back to Privet Drive on his own, and as soon as the woman disappeared through the fireplace (green flames, that was new; Gabriel made a mental note to look it up) Gabriel went over to the counter and bought a room until September first. There was no way he was staying with the Dursleys any longer than he needed to.

The door had barely closed behind the man who had offered to bring up Gabriel's luggage before Gabriel had whipped out his wand. If this was his father messing around, or one of his siblings trying to be funny, then Gabriel hoped that they knew he was thoroughly pissed off. It was downright cruel, giving him a wand like this when he was trapped in his vessel.

The runes might have been made up by wizards' standards, but it was only too easy for Gabriel to read the Enochian carved on the handle. The word  _ traveler  _ had a different connotation in Enochian; it didn't mean someone who travels a lot, but instead someone who is far from home.

The feather was also no coincidence. There had to be someone behind this. Only God or one of Gabriel's brothers could have given him a wand with an  _ angel's  _ feather in it; and if he judged right, it was one of Samandriel's feathers. Gabriel felt a tiny pang. He and the other three archangels had been given what amounted to custody over their younger siblings, and they usually took turns whenever a new one was created. Samandriel, like Balthazar and Castiel, had been one of his charges.

Gabriel put the wand in the deepest pocket of his new trunk and decided to see if the broomsticks he'd noticed were any good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, please!


	4. Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we see me actually updating when I originally meant to update. I'll try to stick to Monday/Friday from now on, no matter how tempted I am to post early.

On September first, King's Cross Station rattled and whistled with the sound of a hundred pedestrians going back and forth, tugging bags and other paraphernalia as they went back and forth across the gleaming station. Trains whistling, wheels chugging against the track as gleaming black cars go on their way.

Station one, two three, and there was even station thirteen in a little alcove off to the side, the station itself not nearly as frequented as its more major sisters.

Four, five six, seven, eight, nine.

And then on to ten.

Gabriel squinted at the ticket McGonagall had given him before he'd left. Then back up at the pillar in front of him, a ticket box off to the side. Then back at the ticket.

The number 9 3/4 shone up at him, gold leaf reflecting in the sunlight that the skylights allowed in.

"Forget my _brothers,"_ muttered Gabriel in annoyance. "Wizards will mess with you twice as badly." Where on Earth was platform nine and three-quarters?

And who the hell had decided that three-quarters was a good platform number?

Gabriel tilted his head and regarded the pillar in front of him. "Hah! Three quarters. It's not like it's-" He rested his hand on the brick pillar and nearly tripped over his trunk when his hand passed straight through it.

Gabriel, arms windmilling, righted himself. He looked around. He looked at his hand. Then he looked back at the pillar.

"I'll be damned," he said to himself. "They mean it literally."

The wizarding half was very different from the Muggle side of the station. The white smoke coming out of the steam engine gathered in thick clouds above the crowd, and what a crowd it was. There was a group of students clustered around a boy with dreadlocks holding a big box, who was showing them something inside of it that made a lot of them scream. There was a woman in a hat topped with a stuffed vulture, berating her son for losing his pet toad. Gabriel didn't blame the boy. If he'd been given a toad, he'd have lost it too, and probably far more quickly.

A group of red-headed people came through the barrier one at a time, their flame-colored hair making them easy to spot even out of the corner of his eye. Gabriel climbed onto the train with his trunk dragging behind him, narrowly avoiding two older girls dressed in robes with blue trim. They stepped aside to let him pass, and Gabriel had the funny feeling they were staring at him as he ducked into the first available compartment.

The train was wider than it really should have been, with hallways and compartments along one side, the glass letting anyone sitting down keep an eye on who passed by in the hallway. Gabriel heaved his trunk onto the luggage rack above the seats, cursing his eleven-year-old body, and say down heavily, flopping across the seat and taking up an entire side.

When the train started it was with a jolt that sent Gabriel tumbling onto the floor from his seat. He got up, glaring at the upholstery as if it had personally offended him. There was a knock on the door, and he saw a ginger-headed boy watching him.

Gabriel got up and unlatched the door. "What."

"I, um, I saw you fall. You alright?"

Gabriel stared for a minute before he fully understood what he was being asked. "Yeah...is there a reason you stopped to ask?"

The redhead blushed and mumbled something about sitting.

"What?"

"I don't have anywhere to sit," he said louder. "I thought this compartment was empty."

Ah. "Can't you go farther up the train?"

The redhead's eyes widened. "You mean switch train cars? You can't do that while it's going!"

Right. Gabriel had forgotten how limited humans were. "I suppose you can sit here," He said grudgingly, stepping aside so the redhead could drag his trunk in.

"Thanks," the boy said gratefully, pushing his trunk up onto the rack. "I'm Ron Weasley by the way."

Gabriel caught himself in time to give Ron the name he'd have to go by for the next couple of years. "Harry Potter."

"You're who?" Ron was staring at him now. "Seriously?" He seemed in awe.

"No," said Gabriel dryly. "I'm only pretending to be him. I'm secretly a child agent of the Red Room, here to infiltrate Hogwarts and sell its secrets to the Soviet government." Comic books were one form of entertainment in the Muggle world, and Gabriel had always liked the Black Widow.

Ron took a moment to realize he was joking. "If you're Harry Potter..." he lowered his voice as he sat down across from Gabriel. "Do you have the scar?"

"I take it you're referring to the mark I was scarred with the night my parents were both brutally murdered." It didn't hurt to play on people's feelings, after all. And Ron was being rather annoying - Gabriel wasn't in the mood for hero worship.

Ron, luckily enough, went scarlet and didn't speak for a while. It was a comfortable silence, neither of them saying anything until the trolley came around.

"Anything from the trolley?" The woman pushing it asked.

Ron muttered something, but Gabriel turned towards the woman pushing it. "What do you have?"

She told him. Gabriel leaped up and bought a king's ransom of candy. He hadn't had any in _years._

Ron's eyes were wide when Gabriel tipped it all onto the seat, and he cast disgruntled looks down at the plastic-wrapped sandwiches in his hands. Gabriel flipped one of the gold and blue packages at him, and it hit Ron in the forehead.

"Ow!" he rubbed the spot. "What was that for?"

"Do you want it or not?" Gabriel gestured towards the box lying on the floor. Ron glanced between him and it.

"Seriously?"

"I'm not going to eat all of this myself, you know." Well, he probably could, but Gabriel was never sure when it came to humans. Better safe than sorry.

"Thanks!" The package was snatched up quickly. Gabriel stared as a small chocolate frog leaped out of the box, but Ron caught it with what seemed to be practiced ease and bit into it. He noticed Gabriel looking. "What?"

"...I didn't think the name was literal."

"Oh." Ron seemed to instantly understand. "Well, if that's the case, you probably shouldn't eat the Bertie Bott's..."

"What, why?" Gabriel glanced down at the striped box on the seat next to him.

"Well, they _mean_ every flavor, don't they?"

The door to the compartment slid open again just as Ron was daring Gabriel to eat a bean that looked suspiciously bogey-flavored. Gabriel didn't really taste them, and so had developed an impressive record for 'not gagging' when it came to Bertie Botts.

A girl with uncontrollable brown hair stood in the doorway, already dressed in the uniform, sans colors as was required of first years. Once she'd taken in the scene, she seemed regretful that she had opened the door. "Oh. Well. I see you're busy."

"Something the matter?" Gabriel glanced towards her, letting the bean fall back in the box.

"I was talking to a boy named Neville," she said, sniffing. "He's lost a toad. Have you seen it?"

"Nope."

"No."

"Pity." She lingered at the door. "What are you eating?"

"Bertie Botts," Gabriel explained, offering her the box. "Bet you wouldn't eat this pepper one."

"That's not pepper," objected Ron.

"Well, what is it then?"

The girl was reading the back of the box, where the flavors were listed, with an expression of revulsion. "This can't be serious! Earwax flavor?"

"Course they're serious," said Ron, baffled. "What fun would it be eating them if you only got good flavors?"

She handed the box back to Gabriel. "Well, anyway, let me know if you see a toad."

"You're leaving?" Gabriel placed a hand on his chest in mock injury. "I thought we were friends."

The girl looked at him strangely, one had on the door. "Huh?"

"You've been standing there for ages, might as well come in and try one of these." Gabriel waggled the box invitingly. "Seriously, bet you wouldn't try a pepper one."

"It's not-"

"I heard you the first time, Ron."

The girl hesitated, then drew the door shut and cleared a space next to Gabriel to sit. "I'm Hermione Granger," she said.

"I'm Ron," Ron offered through a mouthful of fudge. He'd helped himself to the rest of Gabriel's stash.

"Pleasure," Hermione said dryly, then turned to Gabriel expectantly.

"My name is Erik Lenscherr," Gabriel said with a completely straight face. Hermione would probably have bought it, if Ron hadn't snorted and nearly fallen over laughing.

Hermione turned pink. "That's not funny," she said shrilly.

"Alright, alright," Gabriel waved a hand vaguely. "I'm Harry Potter. You've caught me."

"Really?" Oh no. Here they went again. "I've heard of you, you know. I've read all about you. You're in _Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Modern Magical History..._ " she trailed off, going slightly pink.

"It seems you know me better than I do," said Gabriel grandly. "Would you happen to know my favorite color? I forgot it."

This time, it was all of them who laughed.

* * *

 

Hogwarts castle was an imposing sight. It blended in with the background, the lights in the windows creating little pinpricks of light against a background speckled in stars. That only served to show how far they had gone - nowhere near a human city would you see this many stars in the sky. The train station was dark and chilly, and as Gabriel tugged at the robe he'd ended up wearing anyway he could hear a man in the background bellowing for "Firs' years! Firs' years this way!"

"Where are we going?" whispered Ron as they walked. "The carriages are that way, I saw everyone else going up."

Gabriel shrugged, catching Hermione as she stumbled one one of the steps.

"Thanks," Hermione said. "These steps aren't very even."

"I've noticed."

The steps led around a corner and down to a small quay, where a fleet of boats waited in the dark water. The huge man who had led them there took the one in front, shouting "No more'n four to a boat!"

"They can't be serious," said Hermione. "Taking boats up to the school?" She stood nervously on the dock as Ron got in one, Gabriel following.

"Come on," Gabriel offered his hand. "You can sit down and slide in, if you're nervous." Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and took his hand, sliding in and stiffening when the boat rocked.

The little fleet set off across the water, cutting silently through it. Gabriel thought they were lucky to have good weather, and then thought that even if it had been raining they still would have made the first-years go across the lake. It was impressive how the boats sailed on their own, though.

The first sight of Hogwarts sent up a collective 'ooh!' from the children in the boats. Gabriel gazed up at it silently, taking in the turrets and the many windows.

"Duck!" shouted the man in front as they approached what looked like an ivy-covered wall, and Gabriel resisted the urge to shout 'where?'. His head barely missed the wall, and Gabriel crouched slightly as they drew into another small quay.

It was trickier getting out of the boats, and several people nearly fell in, but eventually the first-years were grouped behind the man and letting him lead them up towards the castle.

He knocked three times, booming against the huge double doors of the school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally meant for Ron to be more of a major player...guess it didn't pan out. I can still include him, though!
> 
> Please leave a comment!


	5. Sorting and A Riddle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally come to Hogwarts! I'm trying to convey how Gabriel feels about all this, mainly being stuck as a kid again, but he also acts a little childish from time to time, because in the show I think some of what he did was just for fun and no other reason.
> 
> I know I stick to canon pretty heavily in the beginning, but bear with me, guys.

* * *

It took several moments before an answer came. Even from the back of the crowd, Gabriel recognized McGonagall (or more specifically, her feathered witch’s hat). She nodded regally at Hagrid, who hustled off, and then ushered the crowd of first-years and Gabriel up several flights of stairs to an open hall that was barred on the other side with another set of double doors. The sound of chatter and a gleam of candlelight could be heard and seen, and while McGonagall gave her speech Gabriel looked around and admired how the wards were set into the castle stone. 

It took some talent to create wards like that - he'd done it himself, but only once, and that house had been destroyed anyway. Whoever had done them would have needed to raise them as the castle was being built, which wasn't a task for the weak.

McGonagall finished her speech and left, the doors opening briefly to show a hall already packed with students. The first-years were left on their own on the hall, already divided into small groups from their time on the train. There was a pale blond boy who was accompanied by two others who looked more like bodyguards than friends, and a small knot of girls all talking excitedly. Ron and Hermione were both shuffling awkwardly, neither knowing what to say, and Gabriel wasn't paying attention.

Someone screamed, and everyone's heads snapped around to see what had happened. A couple first years scrambled away, and Gabriel immediately saw what had happened, and snapped a tight hold over his Grace.

There were ghosts streaming through the walls, silvery and partially see-through. They floated above the crowd of first-years, talking among themselves.

"I say we give him a chance!" A man in friar's robes insisted, conversing with a man in a ruffled collar and Elizabethan-style clothes.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves?"

"He may be a - I say! What are you doing here?" The ghosts had noticed the group in the hall below and had come to a stop, hovering over their heads. No one answered.

"New students!" The friar's ghost said cheerfully. "Here to be Sorted, eh?" A few people dared to nod, but the doors creaking open again directed everyone's attention once again. McGonagall reappeared in the hall, glancing up at the ghosts as she passed under them.

"If you would all form a line?" The group of eleven-year-olds took several minutes to accomplish such a simple task, jostling and pushing to be in front. McGonagall waited patiently while the sorted themselves, and then led the column of first-years into the hall.

Candles twinkled as they floated, magically suspended underneath the ceiling. The roof opened up to a view of the starry sky outside, and Hermione leaned forward to hiss something in Gabriel and Ron's ears. "It's not really an open ceiling," she told them, "it's just enchanted to look like it. I read it in Hogwarts, a History."

Ron rolled his eyes. Gabriel elbowed him in the ribs, still tense from keeping his power hidden. The ghosts followed as well, silvery forms gaining greater transparency as they floated among the candles. Gabriel took time to wonder why they weren't in color, like all the other ghosts he'd ever seen.

There were four tables packed with students in the hall, and there was an aisle between two of them which the first-years walked along to reach the steps which led up to fifth and final table. What must have been teachers were seated along it, all in robes of varying and bright colors. Seated in the center, on an elaborate gold thronelike chair, was a man who out of everyone in the hall looked most like the stereotypical wizard. With a pointed hat and a long beard which vanished under the table, he seemed to have cultivated the 'old, friendly grandfather' look.

A stool sat at the head of the four tables, upon which McGonagall ceremonially placed an old, tattered, pointed hat.

"That thing looks like it's going to give us lice if we wear it," muttered Gabriel. Hermione, who overheard him, looked torn between agreeing and shushing him.

A rip on the brim of the hat opened wide. Gabriel watched in mounting disbelief and glee as it began to  _ sing.  _ Singing hats. This was what his life had come to. 

The end of the song was greeted by applause from the student body, while some of the first-years nervously and halfheartedly clapped. Most seemed content to stand ramrod still and sweat.

"When I call your name," McGonagall announced from her position next to the stool after the clapping died down. "You will come up and place the hat on your head. It will then Sort you into one of the four houses."

"So we've just got to try on a hat!" Ron, standing next to Gabriel, relaxed noticeably. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

"Who's Fred?" Whoever he was, he sounded like the kind of person Gabriel would like to know.

"He's my brother," Ron explained somewhat moodily as "Abbot, Hannah" was called up to the front. "I've got five, and they're all older than me." Gabriel could certainly sympathize with that. "Everyone expects me to do as well as they've done, but when I do it it won't be that big of a deal since they've done it first." The hat yelled out HUFFLEPUFF, but Gabriel wasn't paying attention.

Hermione looked troubled; she of course could hear everything they were saying. "I'm sure you'll do alright," she told Ron, trying to be reassuring.

"Sure," said Ron, looking unconvinced.

Students were called up to be Sorted in a constant stream. Gabriel took the time to look around. On the walls were colored banners, most likely one for each House. There was a red one with a gold lion, next to a blue one with a bronze bird in midflight. On the other wall was a green banner featuring a silver snake, and on the side closest to the staff table hung a yellow banner on which was sewn a black badger.

"Longbottom, Neville!" Gabriel winced as that name was called. The kid would probably spend his whole time here being teased relentlessly for his unfortunate last name. He was sorted into Gryffindor, but accidentally ran off to his table with the Hat still on his head.

"Malfoy, Draco" went to Slytherin before the Hat even touched his head. Gabriel smirked to himself, wondering if anyone here had bothered to learn the meaning of  _ that  _ name.

The list dwindled down from the Ms, and eventually they came to the last few letters. "Potter, Harry!"

The hall went entirely silent as the name was called. Whispers broke out as Gabriel made his way to the front, grinning at McGonagall. She seemed unimpressed, and waited for him to sit down before dropping the hat on his head.

Gabriel waited in the abrupt darkness that followed (the hat was wide enough to drop over his face, and wasn't that embarrassing), and jumped when a voice whispered into his ear.

**_Well, well, well. I haven't seen something like this in a while._ **

_ What the hell?  _ The hat was sentient?

**_No no_ ** _ , _ the hat said, since who else could it be?  **_I'll need to see into your head to sort you properly._ **

_ No way! _

**_Don't be difficult about it._ **

_ I'm not being difficult! You couldn't handle what goes on in here. _

**_Oh?_ **

Just to spite the hat, Gabriel pushed a wad of memories at it, some of his oldest ones.

The hat was silent for a long time. Then...

**_I see._ **

_ That's all you're going to say? _

**_I have met one of your kind before. Don't be so surprised -_ ** The hat could clearly see his emotions -  **_How else do you think the Founders got those wards there?_ **

_ Oh, so it wasn't them. I was wondering how they'd been built into the stone. _

The hat conveyed an affirmative.  **_In any case, I know the exact place for you to go. The best House for you would be-_ **

_ Hold on! You're not about to say Slytherin, are you? _

**_What, you don't agree?_ **

_ Of course I do. I know myself better than you do. But no one trusts the Slytherins. _

**_I see your point._ ** The Hat was silent for a few moments, and Gabriel knew the teachers in the hall must have been wondering what was taking so long.  **_Ah, I know! I'll put you in-_ **

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table to Gabriel's immediate left began cheering wildly. Hermione, from what Gabriel could see of her at the Gryffindor table, looked disappointed. Gabriel handed the hat back to McGonagall and made his way to the Ravenclaw table, where he was quickly pulled into a seat with the other first years. The lining on his robes had turned itself a dark blue, matching that of the people sitting around him, and the tie had changed to match. Gabriel watched as the House crest stitched itself onto the cloth over the left side of his chest.

The students were all looking at him curiously, but Gabriel was still looking up at the hat. He watched to see where Ron would go, and when the redhead went to Gryffindor with the rest of his brothers - there was no way that shade of red was anything but hereditary - Gabriel grinned at him and gave him a thumbs up.

As the hall quieted down, the Headmaster raised his glass and smiled. "There is time for speech-making, but it is not now. Tuck in!"

Food appeared on the dishes on the table - turkey and chicken, all sorts of proper dinner food. There were even salads, and here and there on the table a dish of mint humbugs. Gabriel took a handful of them and then put some food on his plate so as not to attract unwelcome attention.

"So you're really Harry Potter?" There were people all over the table leaning closer to talk to him, and Gabriel was sure that someone had switched seats to get closer.

"Yes," said Gabriel, popping a humbug in his mouth.

"And have you really got-"

"If one more person asks me about the scar I got the night my parents were murdered I'm going to leave the hall." Shock rippled across the faces of those who heard him, and those who weren't put off by that were pulled back by more tactful students.

"Welcome to Ravenclaw," one older student offered, shaking Gabriel's hand. "I'm sure you'll do well here."

"Thanks," Gabriel said. "I'm hoping it's as interesting as I think it's going to be."

"Trust me," the student laughed. "There's no shortage of 'interesting' in Ravenclaw."

* * *

 

The Ravenclaw dormitory was high in a tower on one side of the school. The door was painted blue with a bronze knocker - eagle, Gabriel realized once he took a closer look. As the two 'prefects' who led the first-years there near, the knocker opened its eyes and its beak cracked open as well.

Something came out that stopped the two prefects and Gabriel in their tracks. The harsh syllables were obviously nonsense to the prefects, who were wondering aloud to each other in quiet voices if someone had cursed the knocker, but Gabriel stopped because  _ who  _ the  _ hell _ programmed the knocker to speak Enochian?

Gabriel had run into enough signs to know for certain that his brothers have definitely been here before, but even though his wand said otherwise he doubted that it was Samandiriel. The seraph was too nervous to have done something like this.

While the prefects were discussing the odd riddle, Gabriel looked straight at the eagle knocker and made a subtle slashing motion across his throat.

"Where do Vanished objects go?" The prefects turned back to the door at the new question. The boy cast the girl a glance, but she just shrugged and answered.

Gabriel made sure to linger in the back. As he passed the door, he whispered the answer to the first riddle, the Enochian slipping past his lips despite the limitations of the human voicebox. The knocker's eyes gleamed, and it spat a roll of paper out at Gabriel, who caught it before anyone realized what had happened. He stuffed it into a pocket in his robes, lengthening his stride to catch up with the group that was now splitting into two different lines, one boy lingering nervously.

"Catch up, Harry," said the male prefect, not unkindly. "What is it, Michael?"

The other first-year shifted uncomfortably. "You said, um, to go to either the girl's or boy's dorm. Um...what if we don't really feel like either?"

Gabriel paused in his path up the stairs. He listened for the prefect's response. What he heard surprised him. 

"That's quite alright, Michael." The prefect reassured him. "There's a third dorm on a path that splits off from the boy's...it used to be a prefect's dorm, but we've repurposed it for people who aren't one or the other, like you. You can use that one, alright? I'll ask Professor Flitwick to send up a house-elf later and get it ready, but do you think you could spend tonight in the boy's dorm?" There was a pause. Michael must have nodded, because the prefect continued. "Great. I'll show you where it is later, you don't have to remember."

Gabriel heard footsteps, and quickly walked up the stairs so that it didn't look like he had been eavesdropping. When Michael caught up with him, Gabriel didn't say anything, though the other must have known that he'd heard the beginning of the conversation.

Gender was a very tricky thing, and far be it for Gabriel to put someone down over it when his true form was best described, as Castiel had once put it, as a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent. Or, to put it more simply, a load of sentient supercharged light. His train of thought trailed off so that as they entered the dorm, Gabriel was musing over the few female vessels he'd taken and trying to remember what it had been like. He distinctly remembered smiting someone for not showing proper respect.

"Oi, Potter!" Someone threw a pillow at his head. "Are you listening?" His dorm mates seemed to have relaxed about Gabriel's celebrity status, at least. "I said your bed's over there," said the boy who had thrown the pillow, pointing to one by a window at the end of the row. There were five four-poster beds, draped in blue with bronze trim. Gabriel wondered if all the dorms were on such a strict color scheme.

"Alright then." He saw his trunk at the end of the specified bed, and threw it open, discarding his robes. He dropped the thrown pillow on the bed, not bothering to prop it up with the others.

"Toss my pillow back, would you?"

"It's mine now."

There was some indignant spluttering. "No it's not!"

"You threw it at me, and didn't make an attempt to get it back." Gabriel pointed out. The boy who had thrown it, Terrence something, came over and grabbed it off the bed.

"It's mine," he said unnecessarily, and went back over to his bed. Gabriel reminded himself that he was dealing with children, and not people who were capable of holding an actual debate over even the silliest things.

The bed was quite nice, really. The curtains provided a good changing screen from the other boys (plus one neutral kid). Gabriel kept them drawn tight as he laid down. He waited until everyone else was asleep (which took  _ ages.  _ They were eleven, for Dad's sake, shouldn't someone have come around to make sure they were going to bed on time?) before bringing up a small string of witch lights, which he attached to the bedframe before bringing out the tiny slip of paper the knocker had given him. 

No time like the present to figure these things out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked it, let me know what you think!


	6. A Puzzle and Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! The beginning of this one took a while to write, mainly because working a code into things like that takes a while to figure out, and I had to rewrite it several times so it made sense both ways.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy Gabriel's first day! I have a feeling Snape isn't going to be too pleased with this development...although this version of Harry is considerably closer to his expectations.
> 
> I apologize if it gets confusing, since I call Gabriel, Gabriel, but everyone else calls him Harry.
> 
> Also, in regards to Michael the gender-neutral character: I'm going to refer to Michael as 'ne/nir/nem' in place of 'he/him/his' mostly because that's the best gender neutral pronoun I could find. If anyone has a problem with this, kindly keep your opinion to yourself because I'm honestly sick of getting hate for it.

The scroll unrolled to reveal several sheets of parchment rolled together, nearly stuck to each other with the pressures of time and having not been unrolled in so long. Curious, Gabriel reached for the top one, picking it up and seeing the marks in Enochian carefully penned with a quill.

Containing his surprise, Gabriel realized that whatever was written here was a nonsense code which required proof of his identity before it would unscramble. Hesitantly, and knowing that the ghosts would immediately recognize who it came from, he loosened his grip on his Grace and let a little of it leak through his hand and onto the page. It was too early to be throwing it around like this, especially as he was still slowly gaining it back.

The symbols rearranged themselves, flitting back and forth on the page until they had created something understandable. A breath Gabriel released over the paper caused them to glow, a trick he’d learned eons ago from a friend. Leaning over the paper, he began to read, the paper lighting itself enough to allow him to read it in the dark.

_ The knocker who no doubt gave this to you has been enchanted to leave this knowledge only to my kin. I leave this note as proof of my presence here at Hogwarts. I have taken a human vessel, one of the four who wishes to create a haven for those killed in misguided faith to my Father. _

_ Every one of these humans has talent, and I confess I was furious until I learned that they made no deals for their skill, but were born with it. My vessel has accepted my presence easily, on account of the knowledge I have promised to leave for future generations of this Fae-born race. I might fear for their advancement, if such trends as I have observed   among the students persist in years to come. I admit to knowing little of the future, but I fear what may be simply because of arrogance and perceived superiority. The Mundane students who come here are fearful of even themselves, their parents having taught them that all magic is the devil's work. While the majority of the time on the first Earth this was truly the cause, I have seen little of demons here. Perhaps Hell does not reach quite this far. _

_ However, of my fellow founding wizards and witches, only Salazar Slytherin understands this as well as I do. He has been withdrawn, and of late bitter, ever since the attack on his ancestral home by the Mundanes which had previously lived under their protection. I worry for him - he often takes things farther than he needs to, and his anger has lingered worryingly - but I do not think I have leave to remark upon his condition. _

_ Lately the Mundanes have become more bold, so my vessel's memories show me. In their hurry to please my Father and gain entrance into the Paradise they were promised after leaving this life, they write away the rights of even their own kin for the simple fact that they are different. Do they not understand that my Father's decree was to love? They call wizardry a sin and arbitrarily pick and choose who is worthy of the Lord without ever picking up the Lord's work. _

_ And I cannot understand this. _

_ Yesterday was the day I chose to leave this note behind, and now I am full of doubt.  _

_ What if one not worthy of this seeks it and reads this note? I beseech whoever you may be, use this not for selfish gain but return the prize within to our siblings, and forgive me for enchanting it and taking it after its use was complete. _

_ Something so little as a note may not dissuade you, but I can try. _

_ Though each of us played our part, I could not bear it. If it is you who has found this, then when you find the treasure know that I am sorry for what I did; stealing it was more than unfair to you, as I know how much you treasured it. _

_ Perhaps I can make it up now - if it is you - the key is in the letter I leave to you here. I do not think it will be difficult to find. _

_ 2 places in Hogwarts are mine alone, the dorms I created for my students being the other one of them. _

_ Left behind as my legacy is this school and my vessel's status as a reputable sorceress. I hope this will not go to waste. _

_ Each student is to be treasured. _

_ Fear no evil as long as you linger in the halls, for the school in protected against every creature currently known to these men - and a few more known by me. _

_ The other Founders halls are their own secrets, and unless you are decreed worthy of their House leave those secrets be until the right one comes along. Keep mine well. _

_ 3 years' work has gone into this. Keep this secret with your life, if it does come to that. Our Father bless you, and I hope you are the right one. _

_ Muriel _

Gabriel leaned back onto his pillows as he finished. An angel as one of the Founders...so Muriel had been here before, and the evidence of his wand said that Samandriel had as well. How many of his brothers and sisters had traveled here?

Gabriel wrenched his attention back to the note. Muriel had obviously expected to be discovered, though if the note was anything to go by, not for many years. She had taken one of the Founders as a vessel, and left behind some sort of legacy and a treasure for whichever came after her. Not to mention that the treasure was something she'd taken from  _ Heaven,  _ apparently.

A thought gave Gabriel pause. What if Samandriel had discovered the same things he had? It would have been easy for the younger angel to replace the letter, and there might not be a treasure to retrieve anymore.

Gabriel cast the idea aside. Even if there was nothing to find, this would provide a welcome distraction from classes. A key was worked into this somewhere, and not even his low power could deter him from figuring it out.

And if he didn’t find it, he was still in a school full of magic. He had to figure out, somehow, how to get out of this vessel. The answer had to be  _ somewhere. _

* * *

 

Gabriel was down in the common room already when his dorm mates straggled down. He had seen someone who must have been Professor Flitwick arrive, as Gabriel had seen the short man at the staff table the other night. The Professor simply nodded to him in greeting, going up the staircase to the dorms. Gabriel assumed he was here for Michael.

How odd, Gabriel realized, that someone named Michael would be neither one nor the other, not unlike Gabriel's brother of the same name. He shrugged and returned to the book he was skimming over; he had come down early in the morning to try and find out more about the Founders. There had been four, and the Houses were apparently their namesake, but after hearing some of the wizard last names Gabriel found that a little less ridiculous. Ravenclaw had been a woman, and reportedly used feats of magic which she credited to an unknown source she had discovered in her search for knowledge. 

Gabriel glanced up at the statue of a woman that he had noticed last night in the common room.It was of Rowena Ravenclaw, and whoever had carved it had made her standing tall, a wand held by one side. She was wearing a strange sort of circlet, with embellishments showing where the jewels would be. Gabriel snorted at the artist's license and went back to the book.

The only Founder's chamber it mentioned was the legend of the Chamber of Secrets, with no mention of the other Founders building one. Gabriel was combing the pages for something he might have missed when his classmates stumbled down, seeming surprised to find him already there.

"What are you doing?" Asked one of them. Gabriel didn't look up from the book.

"I would think it was obvious." He closed it in frustration, resisting the urge to throw the volume at someone.

"Ravenclaw's meant for the smart, but I don't think we're supposed to take it that literally." said another boy, glancing around at the shelves which filled the common room. The room was open and airy, being in a tower and all, with gold constellations painted on the ceiling. There were plenty of spaces to sit and do work, and a circle of comfortable chairs and couches surrounded a small grate which was currently empty of anything save a few logs. Gabriel stood up, making a show of stretching like someone would after sitting down for a while.

"Well," he said, "I'm going down to the Great Hall. How long do we have until classes start, half an hour?" He grinned at his classmates panic at finding they had so little time left, and as he closed the door behind him he twisted his hand slightly, disabling the spell he'd set up and returning time to its normal speed.

He may not have had a lot of Grace to waste, but what was the harm in some small pranks?

Older students had already partially filled the hall by the time Gabriel arrived, having taken nearly twenty minutes to find his way back downstairs. He took a seat at Ravenclaw table, and someone immediately passed a stack of parchment to him. Gabriel was about to shove it back at the girl before he realized that it was their schedules for the year, and she was merely passing them along. He located his and pushed the stack onto the table in front of the empty seat next to him.

Transfiguration took up the first two periods, then straight to lunch. Potions after lunch, then History of Magic, and right before dinner was Herbology. Astronomy was, apparently, on Tuesday at midnight. The schedule went on to detail the rest of the week, but Gabriel folded it up and stuck it in his pocket for now. His bag had been enchanted by a woman he'd met in Diagon Alley the day after McGonagall had left, and so every one of his textbooks was carried around in it and the bag still felt like it was empty. Gabriel had taken care to remember the words and the little flick of her wand she'd given, and made a note to practice the spell first chance he got.

His classmates piled into the hall several minutes after Gabriel got there, stuffing their faces and hurriedly exchanging schedules. Gabriel went on his way early to Transfiguration. Not that he intended to be early, of course, but he needed time to explore the castle. Ravenclaw challenge aside, who knew what he might find?

* * *

 

He was ten minutes late to class.

In Gabriel's defense, he really didn't know that the fourth-floor corridor didn't reach a staircase until it was at the other side of the castle.

He opened the door mid-lecture, receiving a stern look from Professor McGonagall.

"Sorry," he said, entirely unapologetic. "I got lost."

"Sit down, Mr. Potter." said McGonagall dryly. "In the future, I expect you to be on time to your classes. Understood?" Gabriel nodded as he sat down in the only empty chair.

McGonagall continued with her lecture, and Gabriel looked right at her the whole time while wondering if the raven in the corner was going to be their demonstration. He leaned forward when she turned the desk into a pig, impressed with her concentration. Unfortunately, she turned it back into a desk before he could tell whether the pig was alive or not.

"You won't get to things like this quite yet," McGonagall told the class, to their disappointment. "For now, you'll start off small...Mr. Goldstein, please pass these around." Goldstein came around with a box full of matchsticks, handing them out.

"Your first task," said McGonagall when everyone had a match in front of them, "Is to change this match into a needle." She demonstrated the spell for them, moving her wand slowly and deliberately. "You may begin."

Gabriel brought out his wand, staring at the match thoughtfully. He could have done it in a heartbeat with his Grace, or his Pagan power if he had any, but magic was new. If he wanted to learn how to use it properly, he wouldn't be able to cheat. Sighing internally, Gabriel reached for the core he'd found all those years ago.

Magic turned out to be no less finicky than the last time he’d. It kept trying to twist its way along different paths in Gabriel's body, and when he finally got it into his hand it was difficult to get it to channel through the wand. He finally succeeded, though, performing the movement and watching the little stream of power wind through his arm and escape the wand tip. His match grew very silver, but it still looked like a match.

Gabriel scowled at the offending metal matchstick, and set himself to the task again with even more determination.

In the end, Gabriel's match stayed a match, and he steamed about it all through Potions. It was only the hasty intervention of his Hufflepuff partner that stopped him adding the wrong ingredient...several times in a row. Gabriel had a feeling that he wouldn't be partnering with them again anytime soon.

Potions had the potential to be interesting, or at least Gabriel thought it did, but the Professor really ruined it. When he came to Gabriel's human name while calling attendance, he put the register down and stared at Gabriel.

"Ah yes," Snape said softly. Gabriel frowned. "Harry Potter. Our new...celebrity."

Oh boy. Someone giggled in the back of the classroom, and Gabriel resisted the urge to turn around and glare at them.

Snape finished calling names and put the register down. He began to pace the front of the classroom, robes sweeping dramatically around his feet.

"You are here," he said softly, yet the students could hear every word - none of them dared talk over him. "To learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. He'd been almost impressed, but the last sentence had caused his opinion of the man to plummet abruptly.

"Potter!" Snape turned suddenly to Gabriel. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Gabriel stared at the man, wondering if he'd just had nonsense words shouted at him.  _ Powdered what to an infusion of what? _

"No answer?" Snape's lips curled into a smirk, and Gabriel realized that he'd purposely asked a question he knew Gabriel couldn't answer. His opinion of him again descended, falling somewhere into the realm of disdain. "Let's try again," the Professor continued, unaware of Gabriel's thoughts. "Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"Probably in the cabinets over there." Gabriel gestured with his head, nodding towards the half-open cabinets on the other side of the room. Snape's face tightened.

"Five points from Ravenclaw for talking back," he snapped. "One last time, Potter. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"Probably their names."

"Another five points from Ravenclaw." Snape turned away and spoke to the class at large. "Powdered root of asphodel in an infusion of wormwood creates a sleeping draft so potent it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is found in the stomach of a goat, and monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant. Well? Why aren't you writing this down?"

There was a sudden scramble for parchment and quill pens. Snape watched them write furiously, flicking his wand at the board. Instructions began to write themselves on it, chalk appearing on the black surface.

"When you are ready," he called over the scratching noise of quills, "Get your ingredients ready and begin making the potion. The instructions are on the board."

Gabriel stared, his mouth nearly dropping open. All that blabber about the subtle sciences and whatnot - and he just expected them to make a potion perfectly with only instructions? No warning on what might happen, or explanation as to why it happened or why ingredients couldn't mix?

Gabriel had seen Muggle chemistry classes with better instructions.

He had never been more relieved to leave a class. Gabriel made another mental note to ask someone why the Potions Professor hated him.

* * *

 

_ Flying lessons? _

Gabriel stared at the notice on the board, the crowd of first years around him to excited to notice his expression. He didn't need flying lessons! He'd been flying since before this school had existed! What in Heaven and Earth did they even offer flying lessons for?

The row of broomsticks that greeted the mixed Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff class when they came out did nothing to improve Gabriel's mood. He glared at the one at his feet as the students lined up into two rows, instinctively putting Hufflepuffs one one side and Ravenclaws on the other.

The teacher, Madam Hooch, was a hawk-eyed woman with a very short haircut. She stared at all of them severely as she talked about broom safety, and Gabriel got the feeling that if anyone did anything wrong she'd be on them in seconds.

"I'm not going to have any more accidents like the Gryffindor in the last lesson," Hooch lectured. "So be careful, and  _ do not  _ take off until I have said so. Now, stick your hand over your broom and say 'up'."

"Up!" was shouted collectively. Gabriel mutinously stuck his hand over the blasted stick and muttered "Up."

It didn't move at all.

"Get into my hand you damn stick." The broom fairly leapt into Gabriel's hand at that, smacking into his palm and startling him enough to make him stumble backwards. The Hufflepuff standing across from him sniggered, and Gabriel gave him a glare for good measure as Hooch started talking again. She went up and down the line, having people mount their brooms and correcting their grip. When she came to Gabriel, she gave him a hard look.

"Mr. Potter, you're going to need to loosen your grip a little bit, otherwise you'll never get proper control."

_ I can control my flight,  _ Gabriel thought sullenly to himself as the teacher moved on, but loosened his grip slightly.

"On my whistle...three...two...one..." A shrill blast punctured the air, and the entire class took off as one. Gabriel pushed off, soaring up and managing to level off about ten feet of the ground when Hooch shouted at them to not go too high.

It wasn't as bad as he'd expected, Gabriel mused, but the unfamiliar feeling of a bit of wood supporting him was uncomfortable, especially as the class went on. Hooch was on her own broom, and directed them in several basic maneuvers before letting them fly freely.

"This is awesome!" shouted Michael as ne swooped past Gabriel. Gabriel smiled slightly, Michael's enthusiasm infectious.

"Hey!" There was a shout from one side. Someone, a student in yellow robes, was drifting higher and higher, obviously not in control of their broom. Hooch went to go see about the problem, steering herself closer to the girl.

Someone screamed about three seconds later. Gabriel looked up to see the girl sliding off her broom, which had jerked violently under her. She was falling straight for him. He barely had time to brace himself and reach out, an instinctual reflex, before she hit him. Gabriel seized her around the chest, his broom falling as the weight of two people bore down on it. The broom spiraled dizzyingly towards the ground, and Gabriel spread his wings to try and slow them down before he could remember what a bad idea that was.

Gabriel bit down on his lip as pain sparked across his back, his injured wings stretching painfully. They wouldn't be fully healed until he got his full Grace back, and so right now they were a mess, stripped of feathers and basically useless. Gabriel hunched over as they hit the ground hard, sending him and the girl he'd caught rolling across the lawn. Gabriel let go of her and tried to alleviate the soreness in his back, and hitting the ground had done that no favors.

"Mr. Potter! Ms. Bones!" Hooch had landed and was running towards them, the rest of the class touching down behind her. Hooch checked over 'Bones' quickly, before moving over to Gabriel.

"Your lip is bleeding," she muttered, and Gabriel realized he was still biting down on it. He opened his mouth and winced as some of the blood spilled onto his tongue. Hooch healed it with a word and a flick of her wand. Behind her, Bones was sitting up with an awed look on her face.

"You'll both be fine," Hooch announced. "Thirty points to Ravenclaw for saving a classmate from a potentially very dangerous fall, Mr. Potter. Can you stand?"

"I think I'd prefer to stay on the ground for now," muttered Gabriel, the pain in his back fading to muscle cramps.

Hooch nodded and turned to Bones, pulling her to her feet and checking her over more thoroughly. "Both of you should see Madam Pomfrey, just in case," she decided, casting a worried glance at Gabriel, who remained sprawled where he'd landed. "Mr. Corner!" she called. Michael winced, but came over. "Do you know where the hospital wing is?"

Michael nodded. "I think so."

Hooch told nem the directions, and Michael screwed up nir face as ne tried to remember them.

"Take your classmates up to Madam Pomfrey," said Hooch. "Mr. Potter, you'll need to get up." Gabriel groaned, but hauled himself into a sitting position. He carefully got to his feet, batting away Michael's offered hand.

Michael led them through hallways, nir face the picture of concentration. Michael seemed relieved when the doors of the hospital wing came into sight, and Madam Pomfrey came bustling out.

"What's happened now?" She asked the three of them, eyes skimming over the dirt-stained robes two of them possessed. Michael hurried to explain, summarizing the events neatly.

"Twice in one day," Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Come over here, then, and I'll see what I can find." She sat Gabriel and Bones on two different beds, and Gabriel then discovered that Bones' first name was Susan as Madam Pomfrey clucked over her.

"You'll just be a bit sore," the healer told Susan. "I'd avoid classes next week, until you think you're ready to fly again. Don't let anyone pressure you into getting back on a broom until you're ready, alright?" Susan nodded. "Good. Now, I think you should stay here until your nerves have recovered a it, but otherwise you seem fine. Which doesn't bode well for you, Mr. Potter."

She turned to face Gabriel. "Now, let me see..." she flicked her wand at him, and Gabriel felt a weird, tingly cold wash through his body. Madam Pomfrey seemed to be upset with the results. "It seems you've landed rather heavily on your back and side," she muttered. "No doubt why Miss Bones has very minor bruising. I'll get some bruise balm and be back in a second." Madam Pomfrey bustled off, leaving the three students awkwardly sitting around each other.

"Thanks," blurted Susan, flushing red. "I-I mean, if you hadn't caught me, I'd probably..." she trailed off.

"You were falling right on top of me," replied Gabriel. "It was sort of a spur of the moment thing. But you're welcome."

Susan blushed even harder and looked away. Luckily, Madam Pomfrey took only a few minutes to return with a small tub of some whitish-yellow cream.

"You'll need to take off your shirt," she told Gabriel, who looked out of the corner at his eye at Susan, wondering how she'd react if she had blushed that hard only talking to him. Madam Pomfrey caught the look, and Gabriel could have sworn that she had rolled her eyes before she pulled a set of curtains shut around the bed Gabriel sat on. "Now, please."

Gabriel took off the layers he was wearing, the school sweater, tie, and shirt sliding over his head. Madam Pomfrey had him turn around so she could easily reach his back, where what was sure to be an impressive bruise was faint along his side - or rather, it might have developed into one had it not already done do and begun healing as they walked to the hospital wing.

"That's quite a birthmark, Mr Potter," said Madam Pomfrey as Gabriel put his shirt back on. Gabriel glanced down to see what she was referring to, and saw a whitish mark the size of a quarter at the base of his ribcage.

"Mhm," he agreed, trying to disguise how his mind was rushing. How had he not noticed this before? Well, it wasn't like he got naked a whole lot, but still, something like that wasn't easy to miss!

Gabriel thought about it as he walked back to the dorm with Michael (there was no point in returning to the flying field) and suddenly got a chill as he realized what it was. Fingers absentmindedly traced the mark as Gabriel recalled the event that had trapped him in Harry Potter's body in the first place.

It wasn't a birthmark.

It was a scar.

Gabriel was sure that, had Madam Pomfrey been paying attention, she would have found a smaller, identical mark exactly opposite the first on the small of his back. He had no explanation for how it had suddenly appeared there, and no idea why he hadn't noticed it before now.

"You alright?" Michael was giving Gabriel an anxious look, fiddling with nir hands anxiously.

"I'm fine," said Gabriel idly, pretending to be fascinated with the pictures on the wall. The entire point of being so far away from home was so he _wouldn’t_ be reminded of his siblings. It was just like them to be able to find away to do this without even being here.  


* * *

 

Gabriel flipped through his books during lunch, trying to figure out Potions further. It wasn't like Snape was going to teach them anything useful, and there might be some kind of potion that could undo the effects of the ritual. It was a faint hope, but he was willing to try anything. Gabriel was about to turn the page in the ingredients section, when something caught his eye. It was the entry for asphodel.

Gabriel read the entry with growing astonishment, then flipped through to find what was written under wormwood. He didn't understand at first, but then the two entries combined in his head and Gabriel let out a soft 'oh' of surprise.

He closed the book and laid it carefully on the table, and wondered how Snape knew Lily Potter, and why he'd felt the need to speak in code to someone who, for all intents and appearances, was eleven years old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna end it there.
> 
> For those of you wondering, the Snape thing refers to the symbolic meanings of asphodel ('my regrets follow you to the grave', also means a type of Lily) and wormwood (absence, bitter sorrow) which when combined could mean 'I bitterly regret Lily's death. It's taken as fanon that that's what Snape meant when he asked all those questions, and I'm pretty sure JKR confirmed it as an Easter egg at one point.


	7. The Dog and A Mystery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot it was Monday, so sorry for the late update! But guys, school starts tomorrow for me, so don't blame me if this schedule gets a little out of whack because I get distracted.
> 
> ANYWAY. CODE. This is normally the part where I challenge you to figure it out yourself instead of reading and waiting for Gabriel to do it for you, but the way the code is written does not translate well with the finalized format of ao3. So it's not actually possible for you to figure out the code with what you've got.
> 
> Michael is going to be a major player, in case you hadn't guessed. Susan, not so much. I originally intended for Ron to be a bigger character than he ended up being but oh well. Whatever.

Something was very, very wrong with the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Aside from his obvious qualities and the class itself, of course. Quirrell was a man who could barely say his own name without stuttering, much less give a lecture on the dangers of vampires. These wizards even thought they were killed with a stake to the heart, for Pete’s sake.

He wore a turban that was always leaking this strange smell, and never answered any questions about it. There were several ridiculous rumors about why he wore it so often, but Gabriel thought it had something to do with whatever mauled, bastardized shred of soul was hidden under it.

Even more unfortunately, Gabriel thought he knew exactly what it was - or rather, who.

He had only seen a scrap like that twice before - once, Halloween 1998, in the man who'd been vaporized in the explosion. The second time, it was when he'd realized that the scrap from before had attached itself to him. The thing was sneaky - even Gabriel had only realized it was there when it was finally gone, with the rest of Harry Potter's soul.

He kept eyes on Quirrell at all times - a little magical alert was almost too easy to set on the man, even if it took a little more effort than normal, and this was an affordable expense of Grace. The man didn't seem to behave suspiciously, until Gabriel's alert went off during History of Magic. He left the room, faking illness, and as soon as he found an alcove he ducked in and stretched his senses out to see what was happening.

The soul shard seemed to be alert, as Quirrell was having an actual conversation with it. Gabriel listened carefully, intending to get as much as he could out of it. So Quirrell was here on the shard's orders, or rather Voldemort's orders - Gabriel had been told the story and he could put two and two together. Voldemort wanted something that was hidden here, but Quirrell was apparently having a bit of a hard time getting it. He had put one of its protections in place, like all of the staff had...and Snape was suspicious of him. That was a surprise - Gabriel didn't know that the Potions master could be suspicious of anyone, outside of accusing Gryffindors of cheating.

But what did Voldemort want that was hidden in Hogwarts? He couldn't have known about Ravenclaw's treasure. How many artifacts were hidden in Hogwarts, anyway? Gabriel wished he’d taken the time to read the books, back at home. They were kids books, sure, but in his current position he was beginning to wish he’d been a little faster at finding out what the fuss was about.

* * *

 

Hermione sat down next to Gabriel at lunch on Tuesday. He paused in his thoughts, glancing over at her.

"Hi," she said unnecessarily.

"Hi." Gabriel returned to the plate of food he'd served himself to keep people from thinking he was starving himself. "Is there a reason you decided to join me?"

"I thought-" Hermione faltered a little. "You said on the train...we're friends, right?"

Gabriel glanced at her, guessing she couldn't have had many friends growing up, and probably not in the school either. "Sure," he said. Hermione beamed.

"I heard about what you did during flying class," she said, making herself comfortable at the Ravenclaw table. The boy sitting next to her shifted sideways to make room. "That was really brave."

Gabriel made a noncommittal noise. "I don't really like flying." A blatant lie. He didn't like broomsticks, was the problem.

"Really?" Hermione sounded vastly relieved. "I don't either, but everyone makes such a big deal out of it! It's like football."

"Sports everywhere are generally a big deal," Gabriel agreed. "It's the one point where the magical world isn't any more ridiculous than the regular one."

"What do you mean, ridiculous?"

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Look around you, Hermione." he said, gesturing. "We're in a room lit by torches because in thousands of years, not a single wizard has bothered to install electricity."

"It doesn't work around magic," Hermione replied quickly.

"Then why do wizards have those little radios?" Gabriel challenged. "I've seen at least half the people in the Leaky Cauldron crowded around it, listening to Quidditch matches."

“It’s Hogwarts specifically,” Hermione said. “There’s such a concentration of magic from all the years it’s been here and how it was built that electronics just fizzle out.”

“Oh.” Gabriel frowned, derailed. Hermione smiled a little.

“It was in _Hogwarts, A History,_ ” she said. “I can lend you my copy, if you like.”

“Nah, I can just ask you.” Gabriel grinned back. Hermione looked flustered for a moment, but her smile grew until it was just as bright as her blush.

* * *

 

Gabriel frowned as he realized someone was following him.

He turned around to see a Slytherin boy, one he recognized from the Sorting. "Is there a reason you're stalking me?" Gabriel asked.

The boy seemed put off by his attitude, but didn't comment on it. "My name's Draco Malfoy," he said. "I noticed you were hanging out with that girl at lunch the other day, the Muggleborn."

"That's a little rude," Gabriel commented, but Malfoy ignored him.

"I thought you might want some help," he continued, "Learning how to properly move about the magical world and all that. You need to know not to associate with the wrong sort. I could help, if you like." He stuck out his hand.

Gabriel didn't take it. "I associate with those I like," he said coolly. "Come back and try again when you've stopped mimicking your dad and started thinking for yourself." He turned and kept walking, leaving Malfoy shocked in the middle of the hallway.

* * *

 

"Fuck," said Gabriel loudly as he realized he had no idea where he was. He'd been trying to look cool and disdainful as he was walking away from Malfoy and had wandered into a completely unfamiliar part of the castle.

"Now what," he grumbled to himself. "Should I keep walking? I might get even more lost. This place is a Dad-damn maze..." he trailed of as he heard something coming from behind the door in front of him.

Was someone crying?

Hesitantly, he walked forward and opened the door. He heard someone gasp as the door creaked. It opened on a large bathroom, stalls lined up against one wall and one firmly shut.

"Hello?"

"Harry?" Someone asked incredulously.

"Hermione, why are you crying in the bathroom?"

"Why are you even in here?" Gabriel heard her sniffle. "This is the girl's loo!"

"I don't care what gender you are. Why are you crying?"

"That's not what I meant!" Hermione's voice came through much clearer now that Gabriel was standing in front of the stall she had locked herself in.

"I'm not leaving until you answer." Later, Gabriel would wonder why he had insisted on knowing.

Hermione was quiet for several moments. Then, "Ron Weasley was mean to me."

Gabriel would have rolled his eyes if he had been talking to anyone other than an eleven-year-old girl. "Okay, what did he say?" Ron Weasley, heading for semi painful retribution: check.

"He didn't say it to my face." Gabriel could practically hear her tearing up. "But we were partners for Charms today and I thought since he seemed alright on the train it would go well but he got mad when I did the spell before him and I was just trying to help and then he said-"

"Alright, alright, I think I get it." Gabriel leaned his back against the wooden door. "So what? Who cares what he thinks? He's a kid."

"So are we," Hermione pointed out. Gabriel glanced down at himself.

"True," he admitted. He was, at least physically, only eleven. "But that doesn't mean whatever he said was true."

"You don't even know what he said." Hermione sounded reproachful.

"Doesn't matter," Gabriel responded immediately. He hurried to stand up as the lock on the bathroom stall clicked open. Hermione opened it a crack and peered out at him.

"You really think so?"

"If you're smart enough to do the spell on the first try, then, yeah."

Hermione hugged him suddenly, and Gabriel's arms were pinned to his sides in her tight grip. He stumbled backwards, nearly sending both of them into an inconvenient puddle, and Hermione quickly let go.

"Sorry," she said.

"It's fine, as long as you don't lock yourself back in that stall." That made a smile tug at Hermione's lips, and Gabriel grinned back. "Since neither of us is going to be on time for class now," he said grandly, ignoring Hermione's look of horror as she realized she'd skipped class, "I propose that we explore the school." He tugged Hermione along by the wrist, ignoring her protests that they should go to class.

"Live a little," Gabriel said cheerfully. "How much free time are we going to get? You can make up homework."

Hermione glanced around every corner as they walked, as if she expected a teacher to pop out of the walls and demand to know what they were doing.

"Stop!" she hissed as Gabriel attempted to open a door. "We can't go in there!"

Gabriel glanced from her back to the door and affirmed that no, there was no sign forbidding anyone to enter. "Why not?"

"This is the third floor," Hermione said, as if that explained everything.

Gabriel stared at her blankly.

"It's forbidden," Hermione explained exasperatedly. "Dumbledore said so, at the beginning of the year. Weren't you paying attention?"

"Not really," said Gabriel swinging the door open. "Besides," he added at Hermione's openmouthed expression. "If they really wanted us to stay out, why leave the door open?"

"We'll be in trouble," Hermione hissed, following Gabriel in to convince him of what a bad idea it was. "We'll be expelled for _sure."_

"Uh huh." Gabriel continued down the hallway, Hermione jumping as the torches on the wall flared up. The fire illuminated another door at the end of the dusty hall.

Gabriel rattled the door as he reached it. "It's locked," he announced, undeterred. "Know any good spells?" he asked Hermione.

"I'm not going to help you break the rules!"

"Oh, here we go." Gabriel found the actual mechanism for the door and released it, the lock disengaging with a metallic click. Gabriel swung the door open.

Behind him, Hermione squeaked.

Gabriel slammed the door shut just as the dog on the other side jumped. Hermione shouted something and a spell arced off her wand and hit the door, resulting in a loud thump as the beast hit it. She took off running, and Gabriel sprinted after her to catch up as barking echoed after them.

Hermione slid to the floor as soon as they left the corridor, and Gabriel closed the door behind him.

"What was that?" she shrieked. "That should not be in a school!"

"No," Gabriel agreed, sitting next to her. "So I suppose we have a dilemma on our hands."

"What?" Hermione turned to him, distracted from the shock.

"Well," Gabriel said. "If we're banned from going in there, obviously the staff knows that dog is there. So what do they want a giant Cerberus for?"

He could practically see the cogs whirling in Hermione's mind. The clock tower tolled in the distance, marking the time. Students began to flood the corridors, all heading downstairs for dinner.

"Harry," Hermione said slowly. "What if it's guarding something?"

* * *

 

_"How do you figure?"_

_"I thought I saw something under it... it was standing on top of a trapdoor, maybe. And there are plenty of old artifacts it could be guarding, maybe something from the Founders. Hogwarts, A History says that each of the Founders had a special item - Gryffindor's sword, Ravenclaw's diadem."_

Gabriel stared up at the statue in the Ravenclaw common room. He hadn't gone to dinner, but instead straight to the tower, a possibility lingering in his head. Hermione had mentioned 'Ravenclaw's diadem'. Could that be the treasure the note referred to?

"You don't look like a heavenly weapon," Gabriel muttered. The common room was deserted, so he could say whatever he wanted. And now that he looked closer, there was a tiny etched epitaph on the carved diadem.

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure." Muriel had always valued knowledge more than the rest of them, though perhaps that was her vessel's fault on this occasion. Gabriel studied the words intently.

"Is it a riddle? A code?" He wondered aloud, beginning to pace back and forth. Several nights of studying the letter had done nothing for him, even though he'd spent years on codework for fun once. This looked to be just as unhelpful.

"Might as well start at the beginning. The dog is guarding something, possibly what I'm looking for. How hard could it be to get past it?" Gabriel decided. "Not now, though. If whoever put it there is smart at all, they'll have been alerted that someone nearly got in. When would be the best time to deal with it?"

Not today. When would he be assured that everyone was in one place, and no teachers were roaming the halls or in their offices?

Tomorrow? Next week? Gabriel cast around for any time there would be a reason for everyone to be in one place, when something struck him.

_Halloween._

Everyone would be celebrating, even the teachers...and if he got caught he could claim he was mourning his parents. That would probably work, unless it was Snape who caught him. Gabriel congratulated himself on a good plan and moved towards the staircases up to the dorms. What had been next on his list? Oh yes. Ron Weasley.

Gabriel settled himself on his bed so it would look like he was asleep, and waited. He amused himself with mental games and trying to figure out what the diadem or the note could mean while his dorm mates came up from dinner, noisy as they prepared for bed. Gabriel listened until he was sure that everyone was asleep, and then for one extra hour to make sure no one would be awake. The clock read midnight when Gabriel allowed himself to slip off.

Angels didn't sleep. That didn't mean that it was impossible for them to fall asleep.

Sleeping meant only one thing; it allowed them to send mental messages more easily, and so Gabriel took this opportunity to extend his consciousness a little bit. He jerked in his 'sleep' as he ran into something unexpected, something similar to a warm...thing surrounding him while at the same time not being that at all. It felt like it was examining Gabriel, feeling for his intentions, and when it released him Gabriel swore he heard something similar to a laugh.

_Please tell me that the castle is not sentient._

Gabriel sent his...dream self, for lack of a better word, along the mental corridors until he reached a dreaming mind that he managed to recognize as Ron's.

_Excellent._

He was dreaming about a sport played on broomsticks, and Gabriel saw the distinctive red hair underneath the goalie's helmet. He watched the dream for several moments, and someone must have scored a goal because the imaginary crowd began cheering loudly.

_Now what to do to make it a little darker..._

Gabriel leaned down to pick up a spider on the floor of one of the stands, and smirked.

* * *

 

Gabriel purposely bumped into Ron the next morning, suppressing a smirk as the boy jumped at the small touch. "What's the matter?" He said aloud, pretending to be confused. Ron relaxed when he saw it was just Gabriel, and shook his head, muttering something about a nightmare.

Gabriel laughed internally as he found a seat at Ravenclaw table. Hermione was waiting for him next to an empty spot, saving the space with a thick book. Gabriel sat on top of it, and then hurriedly got off, as Hermione looked ready to beat him over the head with the textbook in her hands.

"You don't sit on books!" She said indignantly after removing the thick volume from the bench.

"What's that for?" The book was at least four inches thick.

"I got in from the library last night," Hermione's attitude switched from anger to lecture-mode in a heartbeat. "I wanted to look up Cerberuses - and guess what I found." She flipped through the pages, finding a spot somewhere in the middle of the book

"Cerberus," she read aloud, "Guards the entrance of the underworld and prevents dead souls from escaping. It allows them to enter but suffers none to leave, and is also known as a hellhound." She looked at Gabriel expectantly.

Gabriel had known this beforehand. The Greeks hadn't been the nicest, but he was friends with Hermes. Inter-Pantheon meetings didn't occur often, and from his place in the Norse realm Gabriel left the Greeks to themselves, but he wasn’t totally ignorant. Learning that whoever wrote the book thought the dead could have escaped the underworld was a bit of a laugh, though he frowned at the comparison to hellhounds.

"Harry?" Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his face, drawing him out of his thoughts. "Hello? Don't you realize what this means?"

"...No?" He did of course, but why not act like he was a child for once?

"It means that the dog had to have been guarding something," Hermione hissed, looking around for anyone who might be eavesdropping. "And I went to the library to look up old newspapers to see if they had any articles on something that would need protecting." She slapped a newspaper clipping down on the table in front of Gabriel.

_Break-in at Gringotts Bank!_

The article went on to detail how a someone had attempted to steal the contents of a vault (which had been luckily emptied earlier that day) and how the Goblins refused to comment.

"Emptied earlier that day...?" Gabriel read aloud. He doubted that the Founders had kept their things at Gringotts. Was this a different artifact, or had someone found the 'treasure' and moved it?

Hermione was practically bouncing. "Something's being hidden in the school for sure! It's got to be very dangerous, or else they wouldn't risk bringing in a Cerberus!"

"The only question is, what is it?" Gabriel said quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I KNOW Hermione was in the bathroom on Halloween. However, for the purposes of the story, I've been fiddling with things a little bit, and I needed Gabriel available on Halloween to go check out 'whatever's' hidden under Fluffy. Don't worry, the troll is still a factor.
> 
> Leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	8. Christmas and the Mirror of Erised

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the last chapter ended on a bit of an awkward note, but I didn't want to drag it on any longer than it needed to be. Thank you to those who commented! Gabriel won't be teaming up with Snape, sorry to dash your hopes - but saying anything else would be spoilers!
> 
> Some more shenanigans this chapter. Stuff gets done. But again, spoilers.
> 
> Enjoy :)

On Halloween, everyone rushed downstairs for the feast, excited chatter filling the air. The Great Hall was decorated with huge carved pumpkins, and the candles had been spelled to glow black and orange in honor of the holiday.

Gabriel personally thought the inane amounts of candy piled everywhere was the best part of the whole shebang. He remembered the start of the pagan holiday, and what had happened the last time Samhain rose (why the humans named it after the demon in the beginning was beyond him) but the candy made him almost regretful that his plan had to be put into action today.

Gabriel knew Hermione must have been wondering where he was, and as he slipped away from the group he caught a glance of Michael looking around in confusion. Gabriel had come down with the rest of the Ravenclaw first-years, but took a sharp turn away halfway down and took his own path straight for the third floor corridor.

The third floor was irritatingly elusive, and Gabriel found himself on another turnoff-less corridor that led him to a tower on the other side of the school. Gabriel was fuming as he finally found the staircase that would lead to the forbidden corridor, swearing that he'd make a map of the school to finally be able to find his way around.

Unfortunately, Fate seemed to have other plans. Gabriel had never liked her, or her sisters.

Footsteps approached on an adjoining hallway. Gabriel quickly found a small alcove to hide in, cloaking himself with a whispered word. He stayed completely silent, and narrowed his eyes as Quirrell of all people walked past him purposefully. He was heading in the exact same direction that Gabriel had been going, towards the corridor.

_ What is he doing? Or rather,  _ Gabriel amended his thoughts.  _ What is that soul shard in him forcing him to do? _

Making sure that the cloaking enchantment was still safely wrapped around him, Gabriel slipped out of the alcove, following the man down the stone hallway.

Quirrell came to a stop in front of the door Gabriel had locked just a week or two ago. Glancing around and completely missing Gabriel standing right behind him, he hurriedly unlocked the door and swept in.

Gabriel followed him in. Quirrell was rattling the handle of the door that barred the dog from leaving. Obviously he was having trouble with whatever spell Hermione used on it, though Gabriel felt like the minor enchantment should have faded by now.

He snarled angrily and took out his wand, muttering spells under his breath. The door sprang open, letting growls filter out into the hall. Quirrell conjured a harp, which began playing itself. From inside the door, the growls decreased until there was absolute silence. Gabriel followed the man in and saw the dog lying on the floor, dead asleep.

_ That's useful to know.  _ Gabriel had intended to just incapacitate the dog, but if it was unharmed it would draw less attention. Quirrell had just begun trying to shift one of its paws off the trapdoor when someone else's footsteps could be heard rapidly clicking against the floor.

Quirrell seemed to panic, and as Gabriel watched he turned himself into some sort of human chameleon and stuffed himself into a corner. Gabriel could see the faint trace he left, a shadow where there shouldn't be one, but in the corner he was remarkably well hidden.

Snape of all people strode into the room, glancing around suspiciously. He saw neither Quirrell nor Gabriel, and as he took out his wand Gabriel noticed Quirrell jump. The latter subtly took out his wand and vanished the harp he'd conjured, giving Gabriel precious seconds of  _ oh holy shit time to leave. _

He wouldn't be able to do anything about the dog without alerting Snape to his presence, and the black-robed man was blocking the door. The Cerberus sniffed as he woke up, and Snape's attention darted to the dog.

Snape's quick reflexes saved him from being bitten in two. Gabriel let out a quiet "Oooh," as the dog's teeth bit into the professor's leg. Quirrell was fleeing the room, and his shadow darted obviously across the floor. Snape, however, was occupied with freeing himself from the Cerberus's left head, which gave Gabriel enough time to sneak out as well. Quirrel had vanished, and so Gabriel darted out of the hall, dropping his spell as he did so.

The man was nowhere in sight in the main part of the castle either. Gabriel heard a door slam behind him and decided it would be a good idea to leave before Snape caught him.

Plans completely ruined, Gabriel tried to think of another time he could try for the treasure, while cursing both Snape and Quirrel for foiling him. He'd have to make sure no one else could come in next time he made a grab for it.

Gabriel slowed as he approached a place in the castle that was far away enough from the third floor corridor. He walked along the unremarkable hallway, wondering if maybe he should just give it up for now. He might have gone back to the dorm to try and decipher the clue, but the location of the treasure had already been found - why bother with the code now, when he already knew what it said without any of the work? And now that he thought about mysteries, there was still the ritual to consider...

Something thudding against the wall brought Gabriel sharply back to reality. Wrinkling his nose at the sudden stench, he turned around slowly and was confronted with the horrible sight of a troll standing behind him, wielding a huge wooden club.

"Come on," Gabriel complained. "Don't I get a break?"

The troll responded by swinging its club at him. Gabriel leaped out of the way, nimbly avoiding being crushed. "Alright then."

He dodged another swing, this time jumping up onto the club itself. As the troll raised it back up, seemingly confused about where Gabriel had gone, Gabriel jumped onto its head and brandished his wand.

He wasn't sure what he was trying to do, really, but he might as well try something. Gabriel brought his wand down sharply with a yell. Nothing appeared to happen, except for the troll slowly tottering over to collapse bonelessly on the floor. Gabriel leaped and rolled as he hit the floor, bringing himself effortlessly to his feet.

He surveyed the troll. It was impossible to tell whether it was dead or just unconscious. The thump it had made when it hit the ground had probably been heard through the entire castle, and Gabriel once again decided that fleeing was probably the best idea.

* * *

 

"So we have no idea who killed the troll?" Dumbledore sat in his office, surrounded by the four heads of house - sans Snape, of course. Halloween had been one disaster after another, it seemed.

"None," replied McGonagall. "And the remarkable thing is that it was totally unharmed, save for the fact that it was dead. Usually this is only seen with-"

"The Killing Curse," Dumbledore finished heavily. "The wards have registered no one using that spell, Minerva, and I hardly think that one of the Professors performed it."

"Well, then what killed the troll?" Sprout put in. She looked worried, her flyaway hair even messier than usual. "Albus, if something else is in the school - well, it's been hard enough with that dog here!"

"Pomona," Dumbledore reassured her, "I promise, we will get to the bottom of this."

"Have the wards gone off at all?" McGonagall asked. Dumbledore sighed.

"There has been not a thing out of place, according to the wards. They did not register the troll getting in, and I found traces of several spells on the creature which may have allowed this," he said. "However, I am just as in the dark as you are as to the identity of its killer. It is no Dark creature, that much I am assured of."

"Then what is it?" Flitwick asked.

Dumbledore met their gazes. "I have no idea."

* * *

 

"Harry!" Michael looked up as Gabriel entered the dorm. "There you are! I didn't see you at the feast!"

"Didn't feel like coming," said Gabriel nonchalantly. He took a seat next to Michael. "What are you doing?"

"Potions homework." Gabriel glanced down at Michael's parchment with a sinking feeling.

"...We had-"

"Yes, we did." Michael had already experienced Gabriel's forgetfulness when it came to homework. "Would you like the list I wrote down?"

"Why did you do that?"

Michael shifted in nir seat. "Well, you know, I know you always forget about unless someone reminds you."

"...Thanks." Gabriel tried to ignore the suspiciously warm feeling in his chest as he accepted the parchment from Michael. It vanished, though, as soon as he read what it said.

"Hold on, since when does Sprout assign homework?"

"So what are you doing for Christmas?" Hermione squeezed in between Michael and Gabriel at breakfast a fortnight or so later.

"Christmas already?" Michael turned to stare at her. "It's only November!"

"November nineteenth," Hermione corrected nem. "That's only a month. It's about time to start thinking about it, anyway."

Gabriel groaned under his breath. Christmas. Great. Just what he wanted to think about.

Hermione poked him. "Why are you groaning about Christmas? Don't you like it?"

"Not really," Gabriel muttered. Seeing Michael and Hermione's shock, he elaborated with a completely fictional tale, at least where the Dursleys were concerned. "My family's pretty religious," he said, "So we've never celebrated Christmas in the modern way. Not presents or anything like that, just-" he affected a deep voice. "The birth of Jesus Christ."

"That's tough," Michael sympathized, while also looking incredibly confused.

"Does the magical world even practice Christianity?" Hermione asked. "I mean, because of the religious backing of the witch hunts and all that."

"Not as far as I know." Michael said, shrugging. Ne turned back to his breakfast. "But I don't really know - I mean, I'm Muggleborn too. You'd have to ask a pretty old pureblood family to find out. I don't know if there's any one religion that everyone follows."

"Then why celebrate Christmas?"

Michael shrugged helplessly in answer to Hermione's question. "Beats me."

"When do we get off for winter break, anyway?" Gabriel asked them.

"You're not leaving, are you?" Michael looked worried at the idea.

"No..?"

"Oh, good." Gabriel gave nem a look that said  _ please explain.  _ "My family's gone on holiday," Michael told them, "And they won't be back until January, so I've got to stay here over break."

"What about you, Hermione?" Gabriel turned to her. Hermione looked a little embarrassed.

"I'm going home. I've never been away this long before, so it'll be nice to see my parents again." she said. "It's too bad that I won't be here to celebrate with you."

"It'll be fine." Gabriel waved away her concerns.

"I'll send you something really good to make up for it," Hermione promised, stubbornness crossing her features.

"You do that."

* * *

 

Michael pulled Gabriel aside after class one day. "Do you have any idea what kind of thing Hermione would like as a present?"

Gabriel stared at Michael's worried face. "Why are you sending her a Christmas present?"

Ne shrugged. "She's your friend, and I'm your friend, so I figured it would be nice."

Gabriel stared with narrowed eyes at Michael, who began to fidget in place.

"Oho," Gabriel suddenly realized what was going on. "You  _ like  _ her!"

"I do not!" The blush on nir face spoke otherwise.

Gabriel smothered a laugh. "Sure, Michael. Send her a book - that's a safe bet."

"But what  _ kind _ ?"

"A history book?" Gabriel suggested randomly. "Something with absolutely no pictures. That will break the deal for sure."

"Really?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Yes, Michael. I'm suggesting you send her the Encyclopedia Britannica for Christmas. She'll be thrilled."

Michael glared at Gabriel, with no real feeling behind the look. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" Gabriel's innocent look was lost on Michael, who had turned nir back on Gabriel to head to their next class. "Hey, why are you leaving without me? I thought you enjoyed my wonderful company."

"Sure, Harry." Michael called over nir shoulder. "Whatever makes you happy."

* * *

 

November came and went, dumping a load of snow over the highlands in which Hogwarts was located. The younger students took to wearing their gloves and cloaks in the corridors, while the upper years cast warming charms on themselves and occasionally helped out those who couldn't. The pumpkins from Halloween were long gone, and in their place were twelve huge evergreeens decorated with magically conjured ornaments. There was an angel decoration on top of each of them, a silly gold thing with a long dress, white wings, and a thin wire halo, and Gabriel had to restrain himself from replacing them with versions of his brothers.

Okay, he might have broken that particular resolution. But it was hilarious to see people's faces when they saw what the angels had been replaced with - Gabriel had taken a load of cotton balls, spelled them to glow light blue, and replaced the angels with giant masses of them glued together. It wasn't the wizards’ fault that they couldn't appreciate a good representation of an angel's true form. The best bit was that everyone blamed a pair of twins from Gryffindor, who were apparently notorious for this kind of thing.

Winter break was a welcome pause from classes and homework, even to Gabriel, who had done barely any of his since the year began. He had only started to do better after Hermione started threatening to force him to do it in front of her so she could make sure it was done right. Michael had helped her do it, suppressing giggles behind nir hands as Hermione practically shouted at Gabriel.

Hermione was back at her parents’ house by now, and before she left she had promised to send the presents so that they would reach Hogwarts on time. Gabriel had smiled and waved, but he was possibly the only person in the castle who was not feeling the holiday cheer.

"Why are you so..." Michael gestured vaguely at Gabriel in a moment of frustration. "Like this?"

_ Because it's reminding me of my family and they’re the last thing I want to think about after everything that’s happened.  _ Gabriel faked a small smile. "It's nothing, Michael. I'm just used to a more subdued Christmas."

Michael did not look convinced. Ne tried changing the subject. "You said your family's religious, right? What is this holiday for anyway? I never learned that."

Gabriel's explanation of the events leading up to the modern holiday soon amassed a crowd of curious, non-Muggleborn Ravenclaws, who started asking all sorts of questions about Christianity until Gabriel locked himself in the dorm to get a reprieve. One thing he did not intend to spend winter break doing was answering questions from tactless classmates about his family and himself, or answering the latter in the third person.

* * *

 

Christmas morning arrived with Michael slamming open the door of the boys' dorm to wake up Gabriel. "Harry!" Ne hissed, shaking Gabriel, who had pretended to be asleep as soon as he heard the door open.

"What?"

"It's Christmas!" Michael shoved a small box at him. "Here!"

Gabriel took the box in bemusement.

"It's from me, open it!" Michael said impatiently when Gabriel made no sign to tear open the wrapping paper. The other boys in the dorm had woken up with the slammed door, and were eagerly setting upon the small piles of packages at the end of their beds.

Carefully, Gabriel removed the paper. Inside was a small box, which held a circular medallion inside it stamped with a pattern of an owl. The medallion turned out to be a pin, one easily attached to clothes or a bag.

"It's a protective charm," Michael explained as Gabriel stared at the gift. "I had to send away for it, but I thought it looked like the best gift for you. It's supposed to be an angel - I don't know which one, but he's the patron saint of messengers." Gabriel had gone to get a drink of water, and he nearly choked on it at that, because  _ he  _ was the patron saint of messengers. "That's why it's got an owl, see? Because they send messages. It'll keep any owl safe if you pin it to whatever you're sending." Michael stared anxiously at Gabriel. "D'you like it?"

"It's great," said Gabriel, clearing his throat. "One moment-" he turned to pretend to rummage through his trunk as a cover for having completely forgotten to buy Michael anything. Hastily conjuring something, he turned back around and gave it to Michael. "I forgot to wrap it," he said, putting on a sheepish face.

Michael turned it around curiously in nir hands. "What is it?"

"It's a Muggle toy," Gabriel explained. "It's from this game that got pretty popular. You’ve never heard of Pokémon?”

"Oh." Michael gave the small Pikachu figurine a thoughtful look. "No. Sounds interesting." Nir gaze diverted to the end of Gabriel's bed. "Don't open those right away," ne said hurriedly. "I'll go get mine and we can open them together."

"What?" Gabriel turned to follow Michael's gaze as ne ran out of the room. There was a small pile at the base of Gabriel's bed, too, brightly wrapped packages stacked on top of one another. Gabriel picked one up in disbelief, seeing that it was indeed addressed to him.

"Oh good," said Michael, coming back in with several boxes of nir own in nir arms. "You waited. Come on then, what did you get?"

Gabriel sat down with him and proceeded to open the present he'd picked up. It was from someone named Hagrid, who he vaguely remembered as being the giant man who had taken them up to Hogwarts on the first day. He had sent Gabriel a wooden flute, which looked hand-carved and sounded vaguely owlish when Gabriel blew into it.

Hermione had sent him a very long letter along with her present, with a large warning written on the outside to READ THIS FIRST! It was full of details on how her vacation had been, and asked about how he was doing, and whether he'd gotten her present in time. It was signed  _ sincerely, Hermione, P.S. Have a great Christmas, even if you don't like it. _

Gabriel stared at the letter for so long that Michael finally asked "What, did she send you a love letter or something? You're staring at that letter like it's got the secrets of the universe."

Gabriel laughed. "Don't get jealous, Michael, I'm sure she's all yours." Michael had thrown a sweater at him (nir mom had sent nem one) and Gabriel had dodged it, setting to unwrapping Hermione's gift. She had sent him a boxed set of  _ The Lord of the Rings _ trilogy, along with a box of Bertie Bott's. Gabriel had never read the books, or really any popular human literature, and he set it aside carefully as he moved on to the other things.

The Dursleys, of course, had sent him nothing. Michael had obviously told nir mom about Gabriel, because he received something from her as well, to Michael's eternal embarrassment. She had given Gabriel a knitted scarf, in patterns of blue and bronze to show House pride.

"Tell her thanks," Gabriel said, and Michael nodded, nir cheeks still flushed red.

The last present was an oddly squishy package. Gabriel opened it to see a strange, cloth-like material fall out. He picked it up, running his hands over the silvery folds. "What's this?"

Michael shrugged. "Looks like clothes to me."

Gabriel stood up, still holding it, and the material revealed itself to be a cloak. Seeing a hint of strange power on it, Gabriel faked disinterest and tossed it into his trunk. "Wonder who sent that."

"Maybe the note will tell you," Michael suggested with a hint of smugness, pointing at a slip of parchment Gabriel had overlooked. He knelt down had picked it up. It was written in narrow, loopy cursive, and read;

_ Your father left this in my possession before he died. _

_ It is time it was returned to you. _

_ Use it well. -A Very Merry Christmas to you _

There was no signature on it, and Gabriel told Michael so. Michael did not seem at all put out by this, and only shrugged.

"It's odd, though," he said after reading the note Gabriel handed nem. "Return your dad's old cloak? Bit of an odd present."

"I suppose whoever sent it thought I'd like something of my dad's," Gabriel said. "Not that big of a stretch."

"I guess."

Later that night, Gabriel sat in bed mulling over the events of the day. He’d gotten so used to isolation over the past eleven years that Michael and Hermione’s friendliness was actually...odd. He wasn’t unused to having friends, but most of them were a universe away, now. He thought with a pang of the Elysian Fields, but shook the thought away. That had been Mercury, not Hermes. It probably hadn’t affected the latter.

Probably.

To distract himself, Gabriel quietly got up and pulled the mysterious silver cloak out of his trunk. It was still practically humming with the strange enchantment Gabriel had sensed, but whatever it was it wasn't a predatory spell. Gabriel swung the cloak over himself, and nothing happened.

At least, until Gabriel looked in the mirror. Having settled the cloak over his shoulders and drawn it closed, nothing below his neck was visible.

"Awesome." Invisibility without having to draw on his limited reserves? It was the perfect combination. Gabriel was seized with a desire to go out and explore, something he’d barely dared to do before. His attempt on the mysterious treasure and subsequent need to hide had used up a pathetically large amount of his Grace. Too bad he no longer had access to his pagan powers. 

The door was silent as Gabriel left, and the halls of Hogwarts were almost creepily so. Gabriel crept around in the darkness, trying to decide what to do. Explore? Make a go for whatever was under the trapdoor? The latter was an appealing prospect...

Something made a tiny noise in the darkness. Gabriel whirled around, the cloak dragging on the floor, slightly too long for his eleven-year-old body. There was no one in sight, but Gabriel caught a bit of movement.

The caretaker's cat was wandering around as well, and she seemed to have pinpointed on to him. Gabriel wondered whether she was smelling him or she was some sort of magical breed of cat. Either way, the caretaker himself would be after her in minutes if she got him, and running wouldn't help, especially in the long invisibility cloak.

Gabriel slowly walked backwards. The cat followed him unerringly, and as Gabriel rounded a corner backwards he almost crashed into someone and tripped.

"Who's there?" called the figure, the bright colors making Gabriel wince. They clashed horribly, even he could see that. He looked up and saw that it was Peeves. He was looking around suspiciously, and Gabriel had a sudden idea.

"Peeves," he hissed, flipping off the hood of his cloak. "For once in your existence do something helpful and get the cat out of here."

Peeves looked petrified to see him, and no wonder; all of the ghosts had been avoiding Gabriel ever since his first night at Hogwarts. Obviously they recognized what he was, and that he had the ability to send them off to the afterlife anytime he liked. He nodded quickly and toppled the suit of armor over, sending it on top of the cat.

Oh well, that wasn't at all helpful.

Gabriel scrambled up and took off down the corridor, not wanting to be found. He darted into the first unlocked room he found, shutting the door as quietly as possible. He heard someone running past and someone shouted "Peeves!"

The poltergeist crowed in delight, his laughter fading away down the corridor and the caretaker's shouts fading with him. Gabriel listened until he was sure that the man was gone, and turned around.

The room he'd darted into was full of dusty, unused desks piled in the corners. There were cobwebs everywhere, and Gabriel took the cloak off in an attempt to keep it out of the reach of the dust. There was an old mirror standing in an empty space that had been cleared, and Gabriel approached it, looking up at the inscription on the arching top and paying no attention to his reflection.

_ Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi _ .

"The hell?" Gabriel muttered. "Oh, it's backwards." He reread the words. "I show not your face but your heart's desire."

_ Heart's desire? _

Gabriel should have left the room as soon as he figured out what it said. He really should have. He'd had more than enough experience with messing with things that turned out to be something other than he expected.

But Gabriel was curious.

What was his heart's desire?

Gabriel took a deep breath and dropped his eyes to the dusty, reflective surface. His heart dropped somewhere into the region of his stomach.

"Oh," he said. "It's you."

Gabriel carefully placed one hand on the mirror, his reflection doing the same. The person standing behind his mirror image smiled benignly. Gabriel sank to his knees and stared up at the presence that most definitely wasn't behind him in real life.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, but eventually Gabriel collected his wits. He picked up the cloak from where he'd dropped it and stood up again, preparing to tear himself away.

"Why weren't you there?" The question escaped him before he could help it. Gabriel berated himself for talking to a mirror. It wasn't like it could answer him.

The reflection seemed to dim a little, and the person behind him put a hand on his shoulder. Gabriel's hand moved to his shoulder, as if he thought he might be able to feel the hand in real life. Nothing was there.

"Well, thanks for all the help you gave us." A surge of repressed feelings built up in Gabriel, and before he knew it he was practically shouting at the mirror. "You made us do all of that! Not a single bit thanks, after all we did in your name! You only ever spoke to four of us and expected blind loyalty, well you got it!" he spat. "Where were you when he fell? Where were you when everything went to  _ shit  _ and we needed someone?  _ Where were you when we needed you?" _

_ When  _ **_I_ ** _ needed you,  _ his mind added, and Gabriel harshly turned away from the false image. Something dripped down his face and he discovered that he was crying, salt drops drying on his face in spite of the chill.

He didn't look back as he left the room and the false image of his Father behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...sad ending. I got a little emotional when I originally wrote it. Sorry?
> 
> Haha, no I'm not. Comment, please! Your tears at what I do to these characters keeps me going.


	9. A Breakthrough and A Hospital Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we'll be moving on to the real action bits soon enough, ish. I wrote this part of the story nearly a year ago so I honestly don't remember. Anyway.
> 
> Should I apologize for where I ended the last chapter?

Michael must have noticed something the next morning, but ne didn't say anything about it to Gabriel's face. Ne did seem to pay an inordinate amount of attention to him, though, and Michael wrote a long letter which ne refused to tell Gabriel anything about in the common room that night.

Winter break, for the most part, continued on as normal. Gabriel didn't tell Michael about the mirror, but he did show nem the cloak.

"An invisibility cloak!" Michael had gasped. "That's amazing! Where did your dad get it?"

Gabriel shrugged as he folded the cloak and put it back in his trunk.

"It's in really good condition, too," Michael said. "Shouldn’t it be ancient or something?”

“You’re thinking of fantasy novels, Michael,” Gabriel said in amusement, while wondering if the spellwork he'd sensed on it had anything to do with how long the cloak had retained its power.

The most interesting event of the holiday occurred only a few days before school was due to start again.

Peeves got his attention in the corridor one day, while Gabriel was walking alone.

"Psst!" Gabriel glanced around and saw the poltergeist drifting in the corner, beckoning nervously. Gabriel walked over, wondering what he wanted.

"What?"

Peeves cleared his throat, which was really very unnecessary considering he was dead. "I've been asked to give you a message," he said quietly. Gabriel wasn't aware he was capable of anything lower than a lecture hall level of volume. "The ghosts are meeting - they.." he trailed off and then seemed to steel himself for the next bit. "They'd like you to come. We've been wondering about your...intentions here."

"Oh." Honestly, Gabriel was surprised they were that organized. "Sure, then. Where are they?"

Peeves led him through a mess of hallways, taking routes that led away from the occupied areas of the castle and high into one of the towers. There was a door at the top, the handle dusty with disuse, and Peeves floated right through it. Gabriel turned the handle while touching as little of it as possible and opened the door.

The room was absolutely stuffed with ghosts. Gabriel could barely see the other side, so it was lucky they'd found a space big enough. There were the four House ghosts he'd been told about, plus Peeves, and several others dressed in clothing from various periods. There was even the ghost of a girl in a Hogwarts uniform, her eyes wide behind her glasses.

"Ah," said the Gryffindor ghost, Sir Nick. "I see you've come! Er - welcome."

"Thanks." Gabriel kicked the door shut, stirring up a cloud of dust. "What's this meeting about?"

"Well-" Nick looked severely discomfited, and the other ghosts weren't much better. "It's an annual thing, really, to consider how things are going as a whole in Hogwarts. We, ah, were merely wondering about your intentions in the school-"

"I'm not here to send anyone on to the afterlife, if that's what you're wondering."

They all relaxed simultaneously. 

"Excellent news, then," Nick said cheerily. "May I ask - how did you end up as Harry Potter?"

"Accident," Gabriel said shortly. "Believe me, if I could leave I would. I assume one of you is from the Founder's era and recognized what I am?"

"Yes." This time it was a female ghost who spoke up, one Gabriel hadn't seen before. "I have seen your kind before. My mother-"

"Wait, your  _ mother?"  _ Gabriel stood up straight and looked right at her. " _ Mother?  _ You're related to Ravenclaw?"

She seemed put off by his eagerness. "How did you guess?"

"Oh this is excellent!" Gabriel almost jumped on the spot. "You have to tell me - did she leave anything behind? Any directions, to a secret room maybe, something she wouldn't trust to anyone outside the family?"

The Ravenclaw ghost froze. "You are another one of them," she said heavily. "Seeking it for your own gain."

"Wha- no," Gabriel said forcefully. "Look, just tell me if she told you anything about it!"

The tension in the room returned tenfold. The other ghosts started to edge away from Ravenclaw, and her eyes were wide. When she spoke, her voice was heavy with bitterness.

"I fought with my mother," she said. "I do not think she would have told me any secrets. But I did know that she had a secret she kept from the other Founders. I saw her writing something, once, and as she finished she enchanted the parchment so that the words were rearranged into meaningless runes." The ghost paused, then continued. "I never found her room, but I knew what she intended to hide - the diadem, her legacy, or so she called it. I-"

She faltered slightly, then steeled herself to continue. "I took the diadem," she said, forcing the words out. "I ran off with it and did not return. When my mother fell ill-" and Gabriel frowned at that, because an angel getting sick? "-She sent the Baron after me. He was man who had desired my hand in life, and my mother must have known that he would not rest."

Gabriel saw her hesitance. "No, it's - you don't have to go that far. Just...what did you do with the diadem?"

"I hid it," she said spitefully, and Gabriel's heart sank. "In a forest in Albania. I never went back to retrieve it."

_ Great. _

"It wouldn't happen to still be there, would it?"

"No." Of course it wouldn't.

"Wait - how do you know?"

He could see her hesitance. "There was - another. Many years ago. He was kind, charismatic, and I thought-"

"Okay. Right." Gabriel paced in a circle, aware of the silvery specters giving him nervous looks. "This is just perfect."

"What do you want with Ravenclaw's diadem?" The student ghost asked curiously, seemingly more bold than her fellows.

Gabriel sighed. "Well, you saw that Ravenclaw was like me. Turns out, she took something of our sibling's - that crown's not just enchanted, it's a weapon." He saw Ravenclaw turn a lighter shade of silver. "I was hoping to find it before someone else did."

"I am sorry." Ravenclaw did look rather guilty, but it was mostly hidden behind a mask of indifference. "If I had known-"

"It's all done now, there's no use apologizing." Gabriel tapped his fingers against his leg, his energy seeking an outlet. "But - if the diadem's really missing, then what's under that dog in the third floor corridor?"

"We do not know." The Friar spoke, his usual smile reappearing. "The Headmaster didn't make it known to us! But there are many protections guarding whatever it is."

"Thanks." Gabriel exhaled loudly. Things had, very suddenly, gotten a lot more complicated. "Uh, you, Ravenclaw - who was the other guy you told about this? If you don't mind."

She seemed surprised at his politeness. "His name was Tom Riddle."

Gabriel didn't recognize it. "Okay. Thanks." He turned to leave. "I suppose you're all safe from Heavenly wrath and all that nonsense...not like you weren't in the first place. Oh, and Peeves?" Gabriel stuck his head back through to door. The other ghosts had all abruptly moved away from the poltergeist.

"Yes?" There was a quaver in his voice.

"Try to avoid getting the first years lost. They really don't need the help."

As soon as he was far away enough to stop the ghosts from fleeing in terror, Gabriel swore violently and kicked the wall for good measure.

The diadem was  _ gone?! _

Who the hell Tom Riddle was, Gabriel didn't know, but he mentally put him first on his mental list of 'people to fuck with'. That diadem was more powerful than he could possibly imagine, and now thanks to a mother-daughter spat it was  _ completely  _ out of his reach!

Gabriel kicked the wall again. Then he looked around and guiltily repaired the cracks he'd made in the stone. Continuing down the hall, his mind spun with ideas.

The corridor was a no-go, as the diadem obviously wasn't there. Ravenclaw's daughter had said she hid it in an Albanian forest, but if Tom Riddle had gotten there first [maybe he'd given up on the vague directions and it was still there, said the little voice in Gabriel's head that was always wrong] then there was no telling where it might be now.

And a weapon of Heaven in a teenager's hands...well, there probably wasn't much left of him.

If he had managed to draw a reaction out of it at all, or even find it. Ravenclaw the younger may not have managed to lay any protection over it, but that did not mean whatever it was had allowed this Tom to find it.

Gabriel found himself in front of the door to the common room, the eagle knocker waiting patiently.

"Um, sorry, could you repeat that?" It had obviously already given him a riddle. The eagle repeated it, and Gabriel answered absentmindedly, walking up to the common room with half a mind still on the problem of the diadem.

The first thing Gabriel saw was that his dorm was empty. The second was that the papers in Enochian were still strewn on his bedside table, half stuffed into the drawer.

Resentment and frustration surged through him at the sight of the  _ damn  _ papers which he'd taken so long trying to decode only to discover that they were worth nothing. With a yell Gabriel swept them off the table, parchment scattering and drifting in the air. Phrases darted in and out of view and Gabriel started snatching at them, smacking them out of the air and crumpling them.

He was left standing in a sea of wrinkled parchment, panting and a furious expression. Unbidden, he remembered the ghost's words, describing what had happened and how little she saw.

_ I saw her writing something, once, and as she finished she enchanted the parchment so that the words were rearranged into meaningless runes. _

Meaningless runes...

Gabriel stooped and picked up one of the pieces of parchment. To anyone else, it would look like simply odd squiggles, or a made-up language. He remembered what Ollivander had said. Something was nagging at Gabriel, some connection he hadn't quite yet made.

_ OH! _

The runes! They had been in English when Ravenclaw wrote them! That was why Gabriel couldn't crack the code - he was working in the wrong language! Gabriel quickly gathered up the parchment again, tossing it onto his bed and hurriedly pulling the curtains shut. It wouldn't do to be caught messing with something like this.

He spent the better part of three hours muttering over the parchment, trying to find a trace of whatever spell had magically translated it into Enochian. The parchment was old, very old, and any trace the enchantment had left behind had mostly decayed and fragmented, but Gabriel was determined to change it back, even if it meant dipping into his still-limited reserves.

The rest of the day came and went. People shuffled around in the dorm, but Gabriel was so occupied in his work that he didn't notice someone trying to get through the stuck-shut curtains on his bed.

As the light dimmed down the witch-lights Gabriel had put there on his first night blinked on, providing enough light that he barely slowed, wand tapping over the paper.

"Damnit," Gabriel growled as what felt like the fiftieth spell he tried revealed nothing. "There has to be a way!" He paused, an idea occurring to him. "Oh."

He stared at the paper, debating internally whether the results were worth the effort it would take to get them. Deciding that yes, they were, Gabriel took a deep breath to brace himself.

He pulled at the power in him, circling it around the papers in his hands. They lit up, Enochian runes glowing, and Gabriel felt for what he was looking for and  _ bent,  _ taking the time and history of the paper and pulling it in the opposite direction.

The parchment began to whiten, the yellow of age leaking away from the paper as if it were being pulled away towards the edges. The runes blackened, growing fresher with each passing second. Gabriel gave a savage yank upwards, and the paper fluttered into the air, as fresh as the day it was written.

The toll was visible. Gabriel slumped back against the headboard, propped at an awkward angle with the papers strewn over his lap. He felt himself sagging away, consciousness slipping out of his grasp, and his last thought was that whoever found him was going to have a hell of a time trying to explain the situation.

* * *

 

Something in front of him was very white. Gabriel blinked in bemusement - or at least he tried to. His eyes didn't seem to be responding.

Someone was talking next to him. Gabriel tried to turn his head to see who it was, but that didn't seem to be working either. Was something wrong with his vessel?

The events of the last night slipped foggily back into his brain. Gabriel groaned as he remembered the papers and the subsequent exhaustion, and hoped that the trace he was looking for had survived however long he was out.

The talking next to him stopped abruptly, and then resumed at an even louder tone. Gabriel winced as someone started talking in his ear, and did his best to shift away. The words gradually got clearer.

"...ry! Harry are you alright? Answer me!" That was definitely Hermione. There were two other people talking in the background, one of which was definitely deeper than the other - Gabriel guessed that this was Michael.

"Harry!" Gabriel managed to wrench his eyes open fully. Michael and Hermione were staring down at him with worried looks. He appeared to be in the hospital wing.

Hermione shrieked and choked him in a hug. Madam Pomfrey quickly disentangled her, saying "Ms. Granger! He's just woken up, give him some room!"

The two students watched from the sidelines as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over Gabriel. "How are you feeling, Mr. Potter?"

Gabriel had to quickly revise his answer in his head before he swore. "Not great." He said, and coughed. When did his throat get so dry?

"Here!" Someone shoved a small glass of water in front of his face, which Gabriel took with arms that he had to struggle to use properly. Gabriel mentally took stock of himself, because 'not great' didn't even cover it.

His entire body seemed rebellious and shaky and refused to move properly.

His head hurt.

There was a scratch on his arm which stung slightly.

He didn't just feel 'not good'.

He felt  _ human. _

Gabriel felt slightly sick as he realized what exhausting his Grace entailed.

"Harry?" Michael was staring at him anxiously. Gabriel tried his best for a reassuring smile. He took a sip of the water, listening to the mediwitch as she spoke.

"You seem to be in relatively good condition," she said. "I still don't know what knocked you out in the first place, though. Do you have any allergies, or chronic illnesses?"

"No," Gabriel replied, setting the glass of water aside.

"Hmm." Madam Pomfrey studied him carefully. "Well, I'd have said that it was a classic case of magical exhaustion, except your core seems perfectly fine. Still, I'm giving you a pass for the rest of your classes this week, just in case. I'm sure Ms. Granger will be able to provide you with any missed assignments." She smiled at Hermione. "I'll leave you three to talk for a little."

Hermione looked a tiny bit tearful, but restrained herself from hugging Gabriel again, which he was grateful for. Michael didn't look any better.

"I thought you were..." ne trailed off. "When you were in your bed...I finally got the curtains open and then you were just lying there and you wouldn't wake up-!"

"Sorry," said Gabriel, entirely sincere. The idea of Michael finding him like that hadn't occurred. Something he suddenly remembered made him try and sit up, but Hermione rushed to push him back down.

"The papers," said Gabriel, looking straight at them. "The ones I had. What happened to them?"

"That's what you're worried about?" Michael asked incredulously. "Not the fact that you've been out for three days?"

"Three days?" Gabriel glanced around, looking for some sort of calendar.

"We didn't think you were going to wake up," said Hermione softly. Gabriel began feeling a bit guilty.

"Well hey," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm awake now, right? And I'm...okay ish."

Michael nodded tightly, though ne didn't seem very reassured. "Right. You're okay."

* * *

 

Gabriel wasn't allowed out of the hospital wing for another two days, by which time the school week was half over. Everyone seemed curious as to what had happened to him, not just the other Ravenclaws, and Gabriel avoided answering any questions by taking refuge in his dorm. He spent a lot of time making up missed homework, as Michael had been delegated by Hermione to make sure he did all of it.

The papers were another problem. Gabriel still hadn't gotten them back, and he was determined to have not wasted his Grace. So on the Saturday after he left the hospital wing, Gabriel hauled himself out of bed and went to go see Flitwick.

_ Knock, knock, knock.  _ "Come in!" Someone called, and the door creaked open without Gabriel touching it. Flitwick sat at his desk, bent over a sheaf of parchment.

He looked up, surprise on his face. "Mr. Potter! Please, sit down." Gabriel obliged, mainly because he still felt like being on his feet too long would make his fall over. Luckily, Flitwick's office was very close to the common room.

"Is there a reason you've come here?" The Charms professor was watching him carefully, no doubt looking for any sign of sickness. Gabriel made an effort to sit up straight.

_ Showtime. _

Flitwick expected a nervous, slightly ill eleven year old, and Gabriel would give him that.

"It's about the papers I had," he said, pretending to fidget slightly in nervousness.. "When I got knocked out. I, um, didn't find them in my dorm room when I got back. Do you know if anyone took them?"

"Ah," Flitwick seemed to know what he was talking about. He rummaged in a desk drawer for a moment, and then withdrew a small stack of parchment tied together with a blue string. "Is this what you mean?"

"Yes!" Gabriel could see the Enochian runes, and it was obvious that the parchment was still fresh. His spell had lasted longer than he'd thought.

"I must say, these are very curious runes," said Flitwick, flipping through the papers. "I have found myself unable to identify them. Do you know the language?"

"No." Gabriel faked embarrassment, looking away from the professor. "They're...I just made them up. I, uh..."  _ Think, you idiot! Think of something reasonable!  _ "I was looking at the design on my wand, and I thought it looked a bit like runes, so I drew some of them and I just kept going." Gabriel scratched the back of his head. "It's not a proper language at all, really."

Flitwick seemed to believe him. "I see. Well, they look very interesting," he said, handing the sheaf over the desk to Gabriel. "I should like to see it, if it ever develops into a proper language."

"Sure," Gabriel mumbled, taking the stack and leaving the office quickly. He sagged against the door as soon as it closed, holding the parchment tightly.  _ Thank Dad he didn't ask any more questions. _

Standing up, Gabriel made his way back to the dorms. He didn't intend to wait any longer than he had to.

Unfortunately, the recent disaster ensured that the only tools at Gabriel's disposal were his wand and the magic he'd inherited from Harry.

Frowning, he readied his wand, raising it over the stack of parchment in his lap.  _ Great, what now? It's not like I know a spell for the occasion. Maybe just intent will work, like with the troll? _

Gabriel did his best to convey what he wanted.  _ I need the translation spell to be gone.  _ He tapped the parchment.

Nothing happened.

Of course.

It took three more tries for Gabriel to give up and go downstairs to look up spells for reversing other spells. Two hours and a helpful seventh-year later, he tried again, armed with  _ Finite Incantatem. _

_ I just hope there aren't any other important spells on here. _

Gabriel flicked his wand, trying to copy the movement he'd been shown. "Finite Incantatem!" This was some of the worst Latin he'd ever seen.

It didn't work either.

"Finite Incantatem!"

Nothing.

"Come on, you stupid paper," Gabriel growled. "Stop being so obstinate!  _ Finite Incantatem!" _

Something surged down Gabriel's arm powerfully and forced itself out of his wand, blowing his hair back. The Enochian seemed to lift off the page with the force of the spell, and as it fluttered back down to retake its place on the parchment Gabriel saw with a thrill that it was in regular English.

_ Success! Now we're getting somewhere! _

Gabriel hurriedly stuffed the paper in his bedside drawer as footsteps came up the stairs. Anthony Goldstein came into the dorm, looking surprised as he saw Gabriel half hanging off the bed.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." said Gabriel, his voice a bit muffled as he tried to pull himself back up. "This never happened."

"Okay?" Anthony sounded like he was trying not to laugh. "Sure you don't need any-"

"I'm fine!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, please!


	10. Muriel's Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Friday, that means the next chapter! This one took a bit of thought, since I had to think of a decent place for Ravenclaw to have created. Yes, we finally see the secret room in this chapter. I apologize for spoilers (no I don't).
> 
> Other than that, it's....well. Spoilers!

Gabriel was lying spread-eagle on his bed, the papers lying in a haphazard pile in front of. He had gone through them methodically, over and over, checking for every single kind of code that had existed around the founder's era, and then some. It wasn't an every-other-word code. It wasn't the first letter of every word strung together. It wasn't a numerical code. It definitely wasn't a mirror code, which Gabriel hadn't even bothered trying.

So what was left? Gabriel squinted at the paper, as if blurrier vision would reveal its secrets.

"Hold on..." Okay, maybe blurry vision wasn't doing anything, but he had noticed something.

"The..." Gabriel trailed off as his eyes scanned down the page. Perhaps the first letter of each sentence yielded nothing, but the first letter of each line gave him something entirely different.

Gabriel nearly slipped and fell in his scramble for a clean sheet of parchment. Inkwell propped precariously on the bed, quill in hand, and fresh paper in his lap, Gabriel examined the page.

"The...Hogwarts...every...eagerly...advancement...simply..." His quill scratched as Gabriel wrote out each letter, leaving a space in between each since he had no way of knowing where a word ended. "Them...Hell...and...leave..."

Words were forming on the page and Gabriel's excitement mounted. Never mind that the diadem was missing, he was finally getting somewhere with this!

"Lately...write...arbitrarily...yesterday...whoever..." Gabriel stopped speaking them aloud, worried that someone might peer behind the curtains if they heard him muttering. All of his dorm mates knew that he preferred to work on his bed with the drapes closed, but ever since the night he'd landed in the hospital wing and no one had noticed until that morning, they were a little more leery of leaving him to his own devices.

Each, stealing, the, upper, please, two, left, each, fear, the, three, Muriel. Gabriel looked down at what he had written, hastily corking his ink bottle.

THEEASTHALLWAYWESTUPTLEFTTM

Well, that was easily enough divided into words. Gabriel moved to one of the small desks that were provided, setting his things down and carefully secreting the original papers in his bedside drawer.

The chair scraped against the floor as Gabriel pulled it out and seated himself, quill already scratching out words on the yellowed parchment.

THE EAST HALLWAY WEST UP T LEFT T M

Why the random T's? Gabriel frowned until he remembered that, when translated back into English, the numbers hadn't been written out. He quickly rewrote it.

THE EAST HALLWAY WEST UP 2 LEFT 3 M

M was obviously a throwaway, as Muriel wouldn't have counted her signature. 'West up' could have meant several things, but Gabriel was willing to bet that it meant 'upwards, to the west' or more simply put, diagonally left.

So the directions now read

THE EAST HALLWAY DIAGONALLY UP 2 LEFT 3

Gabriel now found himself facing a problem almost as difficult as the one he'd just solved.

" _ Which _ east hallway?"

How many east hallways could there be in one school? There were only eight floors after all, Gabriel reasoned, and if he explored the east side of the school on each of them he'd be sure to stumble across a sign sooner or later.

As in most cases, it was easier said than done.

Gabriel only had the weekends to work after all, and February was no easier than the rest of the school year in terms of homework. Sometimes Gabriel sat down and seriously wondered if he really should have accepted the offer to come here.

The answer always turned out to be yes, as the alternative was spending another seven years with the Dursleys until he 'came of age' in the muggle world and was allowed to leave. Part of the reason was, of course, that he'd have never discovered what was basically his sister's will otherwise. But the Dursleys were the majority of his reason.

This decision, however, was sorely tested when it took Gabriel three days of combing the corridors and no results to discover that he was on the wrong side of the school. He nearly took a chunk of stone out of the wall when he discovered this, and after expressing his frustration with a couple of choice words, Gabriel located the actual east side of the school and started over.

This was, of course, assuming that the message meant 'the hallway on the east side' and not 'the hallway going east'. If that was the case, Gabriel thought he might be forced to give up the challenge altogether.

None of the hallways he investigated bore any sign of a secret door or any clue that might tell him where to look. There were no ever-so-slightly out of place 'walls', or initials carved into the wall, or even invisible marks in Enochian.

There was, however, one thing that Gabriel learned.

There were exactly four hallways in the school which went straight from one side of the castle to another - one on each side, for each cardinal direction on a map. Four long hallways, four founders. It was as close to a clue as Gabriel was going to get.

Unfortunately, there were two drawbacks. One, they were all on different floors. Two, technically three of them could have been the hallway he was looking for - one on the east side, two others who could both technically be 'leading' east while still not being on the east side.

Three, they went from one side of the castle to the other, and that was quite a lot of space in which to hide a secret room.

Gabriel decided to start simply - after all, once he'd translated it, the code had been very simple - and began with the hallway on the east side.

"Ugh." Gabriel groaned as he leaned against the wall. "This is going nowhere!" He slid down it to rest on the floor. "Why is this so difficult? I'm an archangel damnit!"

The hallway, luckily, was mostly deserted, with only a few students talking and drifting aimlessly down by the other end. The majority of students seemed to be either in their common rooms or studying, as apparently the upper years had some sort of huge test coming up. Many of the Ravenclaws, of course, had already got together plans for study groups to prepare for the end-of-year tests, which were in June. Gabriel had refused to join on the grounds that it was pointless to start studying three months in advance, because then he'd forget everything again by the time tests actually began.

This did not seem to deter any of his Housemates. Hermione was just as bad, drawing up study schedules for herself and panicking that she wouldn't be able to remember the 1912 Werewolf code of conduct or some other tidbit of history that they'd barely even gone over in class.

Gabriel certainly didn't remember learning about it, but he was unsure how much of that was him not paying attention in History of Magic, and how much of it was the fact that Binns wasn't really a very good teacher. Even Gabriel found him unbearably boring, and he had been sure earlier in the year that Hermione was employing some sort of spell to stay awake during his lectures. Well, Gabriel wasn't really asleep in class, but he certainly wasn't paying attention.

In the present, these thoughts were the farthest from Gabriel's mind they had ever been.

"Absolutely no help," he grumbled to himself from his seat on a small stone bench which was set into the wall. "Thanks a lot, Muriel, your clue skills are absolutely horrible. The east hallway, you say.  _ Which  _ east hallway?"

* * *

 

"Harry!"

"What?" Gabriel turned around and saw Hermione thrusting a piece of parchment in his face. He blinked, stepping back slightly to give himself some room. "What's that?"

"It's for you." Hermione shoved it into his hands. "To help you with review - I know you don't like homework and such and of course you'd put everything off until the last minute-"

"Hermione-"  _ Please tell me this isn't what I think it is.  _ "Is this a  _ study schedule _ ?"

"Yes," Hermione replied matter-of-factly. "And I really think you need to use it because cramming isn't going to work! These are our finals, Harry! They decide whether we get into the next year!"

Gabriel put a hand carefully on Hermione's shoulder. "You do know that exams aren't for another three months, right?"

"Yes!" she snapped, and Gabriel quickly snatched his hand back as though it were about to be bitten off. "That doesn't change the fact that preparation is important!" She dug around in her bag, turning away slightly and Gabriel was tempted to run while he could. "I've got one for Michael, too, so give it to him when you see him, okay?"

"Not 'him'," Gabriel corrected as he accepted the second sheet of parchment.

Hermione gave Gabriel a confused look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Michael's not a he." Gabriel glanced over the schedule warily, seeing that she had filled basically all his free time. They were even color-coded by class.

This didn't seem to help Hermone's confusion. "Are you saying Michael's a girl?"

"I'm saying they’re not either." Gabriel folded his sheet up and stuck it in his pocket, where he hoped to forget about it completely and possibly lose it. "Ask them yourself if you're so confused."

"Who's them?"

" _ Michael." _

"Oh." Hermione seemed less confused now, and more curious. "... Where are you going?"

"Around," Gabriel replied. "I'm exploring the castle." That sounded better than 'I'm looking for Ravenclaw's secret room based on a set of really vague directions'.

"Can I come?" And there went that time to look for it. Suppressing his frustration, Gabriel nodded.

"This castle's so big, though," Hermione said as they walked. They had wandered through the school and ended up at the hallway Gabriel had been investigating, mainly because Gabriel was very subtle about things when he wanted to be and he thought that he might as well try to look a little more. "I mean, is it really necessary? I suppose that when it was built they would have needed to defend themselves."

"Probably."

"But are moving staircases really necessary?" Hermione seemed very put out on the topic. "It's hard enough getting to class on time - and the rooms aren't even numbered! They could at least give us a map."

"I don't think a map exists, actually." Gabriel glanced out a nearby window and down into the courtyard, where there were a bunch of students milling around. It was the weekend, after all.

"Well then, it seems a bit ridiculous that no one's ever made one." Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Maybe no one ever thought of it."

"A castle this big, and you think no one has ever thought of mapping it? Harry, please."

Gabriel grinned at Hermione. "Maybe none of them were as smart as you."

Hermione blushed heavily at the compliment, choosing to look away and stare at a random place on the wall.

"What's that?" She said curiously. Gabriel turned around to see her looking at a rough patch of stone.

"The wall?" He suggested. Hermione shot him a look and walked closer to see it better. Gabriel followed.

It turned out not to be just a rough patch of stone, but something carved into the wall. Gabriel's heart migrated to somewhere in the vicinity of his throat when he realized that it wasn't just any carving, but a single rune.

To most wizards, it would just be nonsense. To Gabriel, however...

"What's this?" asked Hermione curiously, oblivious to Gabriel's shock. "It looks like a rune."

"It looks a bit like what's on my wand," said Gabriel, playing the part of 'curious kid' and hiding his surprise. Hermione whirled around to face him.

"Your wand? You mean the carvings on it? Can I see?" she asked eagerly.

Gabriel took his wand out of the pocket that seemed to be sewn into their robes for that reason. "See?" he said, offering her the handle and a clear view. Hermione inspected it critically, taking the wand and angling it to get a better look at the 'made-up' runes.

"Hmm," was all she said, handing it back to Gabriel. "Harry, you didn't make this, did you?"

"The wand?"

Hermione looked exasperated. "No! I mean this rune in the wall. You didn't put it there, did you?"

"Why would I carve something from my wand on the wall?" Gabriel affected a puzzled expression.

Hermione shrugged. "I was just asking. It is a bit strange, to find something from your wand on the wall."

"Well, I solemnly swear that I did not carve that there."

"I believe you."

* * *

 

He hadn't returned to the hallway where Hermione had found the rune immediately. Instead, Gabriel had waited, watching for the perfect opportunity to slip off unnoticed and open it. He found his chance after several weeks of being constantly frustrated in his efforts.

It was late April, almost May really, and the student body was either outside enjoying the weather or, more likely, inside studying for upcoming exams. The teachers had piled on homework as the tests drew nearer, seemingly agreeing with Hermione, and Gabriel had very nearly resorted to using magic to get it done faster.

Anyway. The exam fever had provided Gabriel with the cover necessary to get to the east corridor without running into anyone. As he stood in front of the wall, his eyes picked out the rune that Hermione had pointed out.

He raised his wand, tapping at the wall with the rune as his starting point. "Two up to the left..." Tap, tap. "Three to the left..." Tap, tap, tap. It didn't react at all.

Of course it didn't. Why should anything be that easy.

Frowning, Gabriel tucked his wand away and rubbed his fingers together. Perhaps...it was much too early to be using his Grace after it had so recently been depleted, but Gabriel didn't have a choice if he wanted to get in.

Breathing deeply, he reached up and tapped the rune with his finger. It lit up, the fractional portion of Grace reacting with it. Gabriel tapped in the same pattern he had with his wand, his fingertip leaving a faint white mark behind that slowly faded as he moved on.

Two diagonally, three left. Gabriel waited with bated breath.

Ever so slowly, the wall retracted inward and swung out of the way, the grind of stone on stone loud in the empty corridor. The wooden door that was revealed was dusty, presumably from having been left undisturbed for so many decades. Gabriel swore he could feel his heart trying to beat through his ribs as he reached forward and took the handle.

The door creaked as it opened, showing a small balcony and a spiral staircase which led downwards until it faded out of sight and into the darkness. Gabriel peered over the railing as the door closed behind him with a soft thump.

Lights ignited themselves as the door closed, and the telltale grind of stone said that the secret door was keeping itself a secret. It was amazing the spells had even lasted this long, Gabriel thought, as he watched the tiny witch-lights blaze a trail through the darkness along the railing. The spiral descended deeper than he could see and as Gabriel walked slowly down the stairs he thought it was a bit anticlimactic that he went to all this trouble for a staircase.

It went on for quite a while. As Gabriel walked he wondered if it would ever end, since there was no floor in sight. Muriel wouldn't have been that mean, would she? Maybe this was her idea of an endurance test, since normally angels wouldn't get tired at all. But Gabriel had barely any Grace left, and so he did get tired after a while, at which point he sat sidesaddle on the railing and slid down at least half of it. It was much faster, though he had to charm the railing to stop himself getting scraped on the rough stone.

The darkness rushed past him as he slid, the lights which had blinked on in the railing the only source of light. Gabriel mused that it probably looked quite dramatic, with his face lit from below by the blue witchlight.

The bottom rushed up to meet him and Gabriel sprang off the railing just in time, landing and neatly avoiding crashing into the newel post. He looked around, finding himself in a small circular room which didn't appear to have any visible exits.

"Come on." Gabriel glanced around for something that would give him a clue. "Hello? Is there some sort of system in place here? It's me, Gabriel!"

Something lit itself on the far wall. It was a torch set above a long sheet of parchment tacked to the wall, with a quill placed in a slot next to it. A sloppy signature was already inked there, the lines blurring as if whoever wrote it was unused to quills.

Gabriel approached and stared at it for some time.

"Samandriel," he read. "So you did find this place. Were you Tom Riddle?" Gabriel snorted even as he said it. The idea of anyone describing Samandiriel as 'charismatic' or 'charming' was laughable.

Taking the quill out of its slot, Gabriel signed his name in swooping Enochian. The familiar curve of the letter was almost comforting, the sigil standing black against the parchment.

Something shifted in the wall surrounding Gabriel. He swung around as his signature melted into the paper, leaving only a faint trace of black like Samandriel's had become, though Gabriel had assumed that to be because of age. Another wall was moving, retreating into the surrounding wall and showing a doorway into an adjoining room.

Gabriel stepped through and whistled, a long note stretching out as he looked around.

It was a large room, with shelves stretching towards the ceiling stuffed full of books. There was a path which led to the exact opposite of the room where a desk sat, a single torch illuminating it. Gabriel looked around in awe, wondering when Muriel had amassed such a collection.

A thought struck Gabriel suddenly.

"I can never let Hermione in here," he said aloud. "She'll never leave."

He walked carefully towards the desk, footsteps light and quiet on the dusty stone floor. The room was quiet around him - the kind of quiet that is not scary, or lonely, but instead suits the atmosphere.

On the desk lay a single book, bound by bronze string and with a cover of dark blue leather. it had a simple slip of the same string to keep it shut, which fell to pieces as soon as Gabriel touched it.

Handling the ancient journal carefully, Gabriel eased open the binding. It was Muriel's - her signature was on the first page. Gabriel closed it and did not touch it again - whatever thoughts were there were not his business.

Under the journal were scattered pages, scribblings in Enochian. One caught Gabriel's eye - for some reason, there was a folded piece addressed to him.

Warily, he reached for it and drew it out from the pile. It dislodged two more, addressed to Michael and Raphael respectively. Gabriel placed them back on the desk carefully, trying not to knock anything else off while being curious why Muriel had written letters to the three archangels, and directed his attention to the page still in his hands. Trying not to rip the aged parchment, Gabriel unfolded his letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand I'm gonna end it there.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed my imagining of Muriel's secret room!
> 
> As always, please leave a comment!


	11. A Letter and A Series of Challenges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked my description of Muriel's secret room!
> 
> I know we haven't seen a lot of Michael recently, but I really couldn't find a place to slip nem in! I really meant to write more with nem, ne's a fun character to do, accidental pronoun typos notwithstanding.
> 
> Anyways, I don't have much to say, so I'll let you get to the chapter.

_My dear brother,_

_If you are reading this then no doubt either someone has given it to you or you have found the room which I hid at Hogwarts. I have no way of knowing if you will ever receive this, or if any will come after me, but I have left it here nonetheless._

_I know you will be upset when you find the treasure of which I spoke, so let me apologize now. It was when I first came here, many years ago (though perhaps longer from where you are reading this) and I was afraid and in my fear took that which I thought might be used again for the same purposes._

_I hope, in any case, you will forgive me the theft of your Horn._

_I should explain further. After our brother Fell, I could not bear it. Michael seemed so strange and different, distant and far from the brother I remembered from my earliest days. I know that I never met our Father, but even he seemed farther away, and I know that you and the other two were as a group much changed after the Fall._

_Well, that is understandable. Out of all of us, doubtless you knew him best._

_I suppose that I hoped, by taking your Horn, that I could prevent anything like this happening again. It was a silly thought, but when I realized the true nature of my actions I dared not return and hope for lenience. If by the workings of Fate I am still alive when you read this, I hope you will not be too angry with me._

_Heaven seems changed - even the voices of our brothers and sisters are quieter in my mind, and there is not as much talking nor much important news. I wish, on the occasion, that an angel might come and convince these humans who persecute the wizards of the folly of their quest, but I know unless told the truth of the nature of their powers that they are more likely to side against us._

_I fear that my vessel may not last much longer. A strange sickness assails me and thought it does not seem deadly (at least to me) I fear I may have to abandon this vessel in search of a new one, which will undoubtedly kill her. Rowena has remained a thoughtful voice in the back of my mind, and I believe it would pain me to loose her so soon._

_I can see not what may happen to me in the future, and I have not the power to look. But should I have stumbled into some unfortunate circumstance, do not linger long over it. I can assure you that my time here was some of my happiest._

_If the other letters are still there, please give them to Michael and the others._

_from your sister,_

_love,_

_Muriel_

* * *

 

Gabriel was aware that he was leaning heavily against one of the bookshelves, but he couldn't bring himself to move. He was transfixed by the letter, staring over the written words for a long time.

So Muriel had taken his Horn.

Gabriel wasn't sure whether he was angry or not. The Horn had disappeared millennia ago, and no one had expected that an angel stole it. Gabriel had had mixed feelings even then, remembering the use to which it had been put and hoping that he would never have to do so again.

 _That_ time had been the only time Gabriel could remember that Heaven had gone to war with itself.

He carefully folded the letter again and placed it in his pocket, next to his wand. He looked back towards the desk, where the other letters lay, and reached for them too, intending to deliver them as Muriel had asked as soon as he could.

Picking them up let a third letter which had been lodged in between them fall, slipping and falling to the ground. Gabriel bent to pick it up.

The name on its front was Samael.

Gabriel froze, staring in shock at the name. _It couldn't be,_ he thought disbelievingly. _Muriel wrote him a letter as well?_

Gingerly, he picked it up and stuck it with the other two. All three letters were put in his other pocket, separate from the one he had just read. Gabriel moved closer to the desk again and picked up each paper that lay on it, but there were no more letters and instead just small scribblings or notes or plan for some magical invention. There was even the very small beginnings of a map, with tiny arrows and little notes which Muriel had obviously used to find her way around.

Gabriel almost laughed at that. It seemed to have been an ongoing problem with the school - everyone kept getting lost.

As he turned away from the desk Gabriel saw a small pedestal, standing off to the side. Curious, he walked closer, and realized that this must have been where the diadem was kept. The surface of the pedestal was thick and dusty. The Ravenclaw ghost had taken it before any time had passed, really - the diadem could not have been there for long.

Gabriel thought of the diadem in the hands of a boy - a teenager who sought a treasure long-since lost, or so he thought. The idea of the Horn of Gabriel in the hands of someone like that made Gabriel almost laugh. No doubt whatever he intended to do with it had failed, and miserably. His Horn would not take kindly to anyone using but Gabriel himself - Raphael had learned that lesson once when he attempted to borrow it to muster the Host.

Gabriel put a hand absentmindedly to the unread letters in his pocket. If he ever did get a chance to deliver them, he'd have to enlist some special help - there was no way he'd be able to get into the Pit and back out again, without letting Lucifer out too or alerting every single demon currently downstairs to his presence.

An archangel tended to stand out in Hell.

Gabriel shook the thoughts from his head. He'd worry about it later - for now, he was stuck here and unable to deliver them.

He let out a long breath. "What now?"

* * *

 

The door ground shut again as Gabriel stepped back out into the hallway. He hadn't taken anything else from the room - it would be to difficult to explain where he'd gotten it if anyone saw him with a book that old, and if they happened to look at the title then it would probably be confiscated. Judging by the many, varied topics Muriel's collection had covered, things had been a little more lenient in the days of the founders.

The hallway was still empty. Gabriel glanced around curiously - it was incredibly lucky that no one had wandered by when he was leaving. He wondered why the castle seemed to abandoned today.

It came rushing back to him. "Oh, right." Gabriel said to himself. "We've got exams soon."

Gabriel was never quite sure how he managed to get through all the written exams when the heat bothered him so much. The loss of his Grace still affected him - the humidity of the Great Hall, where they took their exams, was so irritating that he could barely concentrate on the paper in front of him. They had been given special quills enchanted with Anti-Cheating charms, which Gabriel thought was quite funny, and probably more effective than Muggle methods to avoid cheating.

The written tests featured mainly essays, and Gabriel had a feeling that he'd made the last one, History of Magic, too long, since he'd given up on remembering anything from class and wrote from personal experience, thinking back over battles he'd seen and completely making it up. Hopefully he'd get something right.

Practicals were no better. They were called in one-by-one where the teachers assigned them tasks like turning a mouse into a snuff-box, or performing Charms satisfactorily on a pineapple. Gabriel thought that these skills were quite ridiculous, but understood the importance of learning the basics before going onto anything bigger. It was like practice for learning Transfiguration that would actually come in handy.

The last exam seemed to drag on forever. When the ghost who taught the class finally told them to put their quills down, the entire class started cheering.

Now all they had to do was wait a week before they found out how badly they'd done.

Down in the Great Hall, everyone was celebrating the end of exams over dinner. Gabriel had sat down and noticed that, out of the corner of his eye, something was different. He looked up at the staff table and saw that Dumbledore was gone, his usual seat empty. Gabriel felt like that was significant, although the reason for it escaped him.

No one else seemed to comment on it, at least within Gabriel's hearing range. Michael didn't seem bothered at all, and Gabriel was tempted to ask why. Something was digging at him in the back of his mind, telling him to pay attention, that something big was going on.

Gabriel looked back up at the staff table. Everyone was there, save Dumbledore of course. McGonagall looked as severe as ever. Snape was still glaring out over the hall. Quirrell was picking at his food and barely eating anything, looking more nervous than usual.

More nervous...

Halloween rushed back to Gabriel in a clap and he remembered Quirrell's surprisingly well planned-out attempt to get past the dog. The entire student body was too happy over the end of exam season to pay attention, Dumbledore was gone...

It was the perfect time to make a go for it. Quirrell could vanish with whatever was down there, and if they couldn't find him it would probably be put down to whatever curse supposedly lay on the Defense position. He really had the best angle - no one would suspect a Professor so nervous he could barely teach his own class to go after whatever the dog was guarding.

Gabriel wondered if that nervousness was fake. He'd been distracted on Halloween, and almost never actually attended Defense class (which for some reason no one seemed bothered by) so this was the first time it had occurred to him.

So what to do? Tell someone? Gabriel almost laughed at the absurd idea of going up to a professor and explaining what had happened to them. If they actually believed him, they'd probably take about two hundred points off of Ravenclaw.

He couldn't tell Hermione or Michael - again, the angel thing was so ridiculous no one would believe him, and explaining that would be necessary once Hermione demanded to know how he'd figured it out.

No, Gabriel was very definitely on how own. He pondered when Quirrell might try for it - not now, since obviously he was here. Later today? Nighttime would be more likely - Dumbledore might not return until tomorrow, from wherever he was, and waiting any longer might risk it. Nighttime was also the only time that no one save Filch would be roaming the corridors, and even Quirrell could easily deal with him. He could just use the excuse of being a teacher to escape suspicion, if there was any at all.

 _Well,_ thought Gabriel, _I suppose the only thing left to do is get there first._

* * *

 

The door creaked as Gabriel slipped out from behind it, the invisibility cloak dragging slightly as he walked. The hallways were empty, everyone asleep in their dorms. It had taken ages for the common room to empty fully, tired seventh-years eventually straggling up to bed from their comfortable seats. Gabriel had been sitting by the fire for ages, the invisibility cloak hidden under his robes and trying to deal with the unfamiliar sensation of being tired.

It took him a much shorter period of time to get to the third floor tonight, mainly because Gabriel actually knew his way around now and knew which hallways to avoid. He'd nearly run into Peeves, but flipping back the hood of his cloak and his best glare had sent the poltergeist rocketing across the castle to stay out of his way.

The door was already open when Gabriel got there.

 _Of course it is,_ he thought. _It couldn't possibly be that easy._

He'd stuck the flute Hagrid had sent him for Christmas in his pocket, and as Gabriel slipped past the door he heard the dog sniffing madly, trying to figure out where he was. He raised it to his lips and began to play - not very well, but beggars can't be choosers - and the dog drooped, sagging to the ground dead asleep in a matter of seconds.

The trapdoor took two hands to drag open, and Gabriel had to use the levitation charm they'd been taught in the beginning of the year so that he could keep playing. He really didn't feel like fighting a three-headed dog. Once the trapdoor was open, he stopped playing and leaped in before the dog could do anything, its barks echoing after him.

The light of the open trapdoor shrunk to the size of a stamp as Gabriel fell with a thump onto some sort of plantlike material. He stood up and immediately fell over again, whatever he'd landed on twining itself around his legs and making its way to cocoon the rest of its body.

"What the hell?" Gabriel struggled out of the way, managing to draw his wand. "Let's see how well you can do that now!" He let loose a torrent of blue flames, a neat spell he'd learned from Hermione when he'd seen her carrying around a miniature fire during the winter.

The plant cringed away and wriggled off him. Gabriel stood up and stepped carefully over to a small walkway near the wall, keeping the flames going and burning parts of the plant to a crisp. When he was sure all of it that was anywhere near him was dead Gabriel turned and sprinted for a couple steps before he stopped. If he wasn't far away enough now, then that plant had probably already killed Quirrell and he was wasting his time.

The tunnel Gabriel found himself in was unlit and cool, which meant that he must be near the dungeons at this point. Gabriel walked carefully along. There was some sort of noise coming from ahead of him, like a flock of birds all flying together in close quarters. Frowning in confusion, Gabriel rounded the corner and saw a doorway with no door in front of him, revealing that it led into a much better lit room with birds as colorful and varied as a pile of gemstones.

"Great," Gabriel said aloud. It didn't seem to attract any attention. "They're probably going to attack me as soon as I set foot in the room."

Grimacing and bracing himself, Gabriel stepped into the room, wand ready and a shield charm (he might have spied on the upper years practicing spells) on his lips.

The birds made no move towards him.

Gabriel frowned and looked closer. The birds simply continued flying around the ceiling, rustling gently and...glittering?

"They're _keys,"_ Gabriel said aloud in realization. He glanced around, seeing another door on the opposite end of the room.

Striding over, he tried the handle. It was locked, of course.

"So I have to find the right key," he muttered. "Do I summon it? Do the birds fly down if I..." he trailed off as he noticed the broomsticks propped in the corner.

"Of course."

Gabriel mounted one of the brooms with as much distaste as he could muster, despite being the only one in the room. He took off, nearly crashing into the roof with the broomstick's sudden speed and veered away sharply, cursing under his breath and vowing to go back in time and ask whoever invented broomsticks what the hell he thought he was doing.

The keys had scattered when he took off, and they all avoided Gabriel as he flew. Gabriel glanced back down at the door, looking for clues as to what kind of key he needed to find.

"Old," he said to himself, eyeing the tarnished lock. "Silver, probably. And a big one." He cast about for a key that would match that description, but in the crowd of possibly thousands of them all flying and moving constantly, it was a tall order.

But not, perhaps, as tall as it must have been for Quirrel. Gabriel had sharp eyes in this vessel, and he spotted a key quickly enough. It was big, silver, old-fashioned, and one of its wings was crumpled, as though it had already been caught. Narrowing his eyes and keeping it within sight, Gabriel drifted around on the broom, hoping to fool the enchantment into thinking he didn't see it.

Whoever had spelled them was obviously smarter than that. The old silver key never came within three feet of Gabriel - he would have to chase it. Gabriel waited until it was about as close as it would ever get, and then whipped around abruptly on the broom, shooting sideways and pinning the key against the wall with a nasty crunch.

Gabriel landed quickly and flung the broom carelessly to the side, where it landed with a clatter on the floor. He stuffed the key into the lock and turned it sharply, and took it with him as he darted through the now-open door - no need to make things easy for anyone who might come after him. Gabriel hadn't forgotten that Snape had also come to the third floor on Halloween.

He glanced down at the key in his hand and felt a bit bad for it. Its wing was now badly mangled - it would probably be impossible for it to fly. Gabriel took the abused wing between to fingertips and leaned against the door as the dragged his fingers down the length of the tiny blue wing, feathers realigning themselves and good lord, there were even tiny metallic bones. Whoever had done this had done it properly.

Gabriel let the key go and it fluttered above his head. The door locked behind him with a click as Gabriel stopped leaning on it, and torches flared into being in front of him, giving him a good look at his surroundings.

He was standing on the edge of a giant chessboard, the black and white squares at least a foot and a half wide. The chessmen towered over Gabriel (something which he privately steamed about) and were made with painstaking detail. The knight had a full suit of armor, and even the horse had an elaborate saddle. Gabriel walked up to run a hand over the piece, and nearly jumped back when the horse moved as soon as he touched it, pawing at the ground and the knight in the saddle turning around to look at him.

"...Hell," said Gabriel after a few moments. "I'm not supposed to play my way across, am I?"

The knight nodded in answer to his question.

"Crap."

Gabriel stared across the board, the faceless white opponents perfectly still. "You know what? Screw that." He walked confidently past the second row of the black pieces, the white doing nothing to slow his approach. Nearing the white pawns, Gabriel made to simply walk past, only to feel a sharp intrusion in his lower torso.

He looked down to see that one of the pawns had unsheathed its swords and buried one of them in his stomach.

"That," said Gabriel, with an edge of a wheeze to his voice, "Was very rude."

The pawn almost wasn't worth the amount of Grace it took. The piece crumbled away, leaving only the sword and a pile of marble dust behind. Wincing, Gabriel reached behind himself to find the point of the sword and pushed it back through, the bloodstained blade clattering to the board.

Gabriel inhaled slowly, running a hand over his sweater to clean off the blood. "At least that's one question answered." Even in his reduced state, it seemed, the usual angel weaknesses applied. Which meant, no conjured marble sword was going to kill him.

Gabriel didn't bother to clean up any more, not knowing any cleaning spells and not wanting to waste his Grace. He simply walked past the other white pieces, which apparently learned from their fallen comrade and made no move to stop him. Gabriel reached the door unhindered (in the few seconds it took to walk three feet past the white ranks) and opened the door.

There was an absolutely _awful_ stink in the next room. Gabriel covered his nose quickly and saw that it came from a troll, which lay out cold on the floor. He navigated around it, muttering "Thank Dad I didn't have to fight that one."

As soon as he crossed the threshold into the next chamber, flames sprung up in both doorways. The one behind Gabriel filled with purple fire, while the one in front of him flared with black. A table sat in the center, a line of glass bottles filled with various substances in the center of it.

There was a roll of parchment on one end of the table. Gabriel picked it up and read it, the material crinkling under his hands.

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us would help you, whichever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here for evermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide_

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those that stand on either end,_

_But if you would move onwards, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and the second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

Gabriel stared at the paper. "A logic puzzle," he said aloud. "Oh, this is good." Gabriel never thought he'd be actually engaged by something Snape had thought up - and obviously this was the man's puzzle, since who else would make a challenge with potions?

Gabriel paced up and down the line, muttering to himself over the clues which were still in his hands. "Poison always on nettle wine's left - there's always poison hidden in the wine? No, it must mean the bottle to the left, otherwise the only ones not poison would be the anti-fire potions...neither of the ones on the end will let me move forward..." Gabriel took each of the ones on the end and moved them back an inch or so, keeping their place but making it clear that neither one was the one he was seeking.

It had been a long time since Gabriel had played any sort of mental puzzle which actually challenged him, and he threw himself into the task with gusto.

"The second left and second right are 'twins once you taste them'...twins...so those are the wine," Gabriel decided, moving both of the indicated bottles back as well. "And there is always poison...to the left..." The fifth joined the four bottles already pushed away, the first having been discarded already.

"Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides...well, I've found the wine, there's only one poison one left...and so if neither the dwarf nor giant is the right one..." Gabriel looked at the largest bottle, which had already been removed due to clue number four. "Tiny bottle it is."

The smallest bottle was made of red glass, tinted pink by the potion it held, and as Gabriel uncorked it and swallowed it it felt like ice going down. He grimaced and shuddered slightly, then proceeded fearlessly through the black flames.

Quirrell was standing in the center of the room, in front of...

Oh, Hell.

It was the Mirror of Erised.

Quirrell whipped around as soon as Gabriel entered. "You?" He said, astonished. "It was _you_?" Gabriel wondered if he had been expecting someone else.

"Hello," said Gabriel calmly. "I understand you're after...whatever the hell is hidden here."

Quirrell paused. "...You don't even know what I'm after?"

"I know it's not something I want in your hands," Gabriel said amicably. "But let's be serious. I'm not here to talk to you. I'm here to talk to the thing hiding under your turban."

Quirrell seemed struck dumb. "How did you-"

"Never mind that."

A dark, raspy voice echoed from nowhere, or rather Quirrell's turban. "Let me speak to him...face to face..."

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I am strong enough...for this..."

Quirrell, who had paled as soon as the Voice spoke, turned so that his back was facing Gabriel. He reached up and untied the end of his turban, letting the purple cloth fall.

Gabriel _very_ nearly took a step backwards as the back of Quirrell's head was revealed.

There was another face growing there, protruding out of the back of Quirrell's skull. It was flat and noseless, pale with red eyes that looked straight at Gabriel.

"So..." It said softly, voice still rasping. "You are Harry Potter."

"And I suppose you'd be...huh. I don't actually know your name."

The face looked furious. "I am Lord Voldemort!"

"That's nice."

"You dare..?" Voldemort hissed, and Quirrell shifted on his feet nervously, obviously worried about the spirit possessing him deciding to get violent.

"Oh, I do." Gabriel walked carelessly down the steps, avoiding looking in the mirror again and stopping before he reached the bottom. "You see, whatever you were plotting, it didn't work that night on Halloween, or the Halloween in 1998, so I'm betting...you're going to lose again."

"You are foolish," Voldemort hissed. "You do not see anything but light and dark! That is not so. There is only power...and those to weak to seek it!"

"'Too weak'? Says the guy sticking out of someone else's head." Gabriel met the red-eyed gaze. "What did you have to do to stay alive, hm?"

"I do not answer to the likes of you," Voldemort snapped. "Quirrell!"

Quirrell whirled around and snapped his fingers. Gabriel barely had time to register the wandless and silent magic before ropes were winding their way around him, binding his arms and legs tightly together so that he was stuck in one place. Gabriel nearly fell off the stairs before righting himself.

Quirrell had turned back to the mirror, and Gabriel became engaged in a staring contest with Voldemort for all of a second before he felt the probe poking around in his mind, searching for weaknesses. He looked studiously at the floor after that, vindictively hearing the tiniest hiss of disappointment.

"I do not understand," Quirrell growled as he stared at the mirror. "I see myself finding the Stone...I am presenting it to my master...but where is it? Is it in the mirror? Should I break it?"

"Use the boy," Voldemort hissed, and as Quirrell turned around Gabriel stopped holding the ropes he'd long since cut in place and let them fall to the ground. He gave Quirrell a split second of peace to enjoy the shocked look on the man's face before he flung out his arms and _shoved._ Quirrell went flying backwards, hitting the mirror, which shattered under his weight and crashed to the ground. Cuts were torn in Quirrell's clothing as he landed among the shards and lay, stunned.

"You know," Gabriel said conversationally. "I think technically, _you_ broke that mirror, so I don't get any of the bad luck, right?"

"SEIZE HIM!" Voldemort roared - or he might have if he were not shoved against the floor. As it was, the command came out rather muffled.

Quirrel hauled himself up and lunged towards Gabriel, who sidestepped and seized the man around the wrist. Quirrel twisted viciously in his grip, and Gabriel shoved his hand against Voldemort's face. The shade twisted and screamed, the face contorting gruesomely.

The scrap of Voldemort that had possessed Quirrell was tiny but stubborn, and yet even it faltered under the assault of Grace. Gabriel screwed up his face, determined to get rid of it once and for all, and he was nearly tossed backwards when the shade violently ripped itself from Quirrell and out from under his hands. The grey ghostlike thing shot away as Gabriel stumbled backwards, the barest scrap of Grace left in him.

"Shit," he shouted, glaring up at where the soul shard had vanished. Now what would happen? Gabriel added another thing to his steadily-growing mental list; find soul shard and get rid of it for good. If not out of a sense of morals, then out of spite.

Gabriel sighed, glancing around the room as he wiped his hand on his sweater. He felt oddly dizzy, which didn’t help his bad mood. Maybe he should sit down. Gabriel plopped down on the stairs and propped his chin in his hand.

Quirrell was lying on the ground, cuts decorating him liberally, obviously dead. The Mirror of Erised lay shattered into pieces, the frame the only intact bit. There was a scorch mark under Quirrell's face, from the combined intensity of Voldemort leaving and Gabriel attempting what might have counted as a smiting, if he'd been at full power.

"Whoever find this mess is going to have a hell of a time explaining it," Gabriel mused aloud.

* * *

 

"Harry." Shake, shake, shake. "Harry!"

Gabriel blearily dragged himself into consciousness. He'd slipped back into the dorms late last night. Luckily, he'd managed to keep his invisibility cloak with him, or he might have been discovered by the teachers which ran past as he was halfway back. He'd had to duck hurriedly into a corner as they passed him, clutching the cloak to himself.

He'd actually slept when he got back into bed, the recent expense of Grace making him more tired than usual. Gabriel remembered all this in a flash, and he looked up at Michael, who was shaking him.

"It's almost eleven," Michael explained. "I didn't think you should sleep so late. Did you stay up reading or something?"

"Or something," Gabriel agreed with a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! A superlong chapter for you guys. I made a couple of edits, as I realized later that I couldn't actually kill that particular Voldemort piece if I wanted the plotline to continue.
> 
> A brief explanation on why Quirrel was not burned by Gabriel's hands:
> 
> Lily's protection, as demonstrated in the first book, affected Harry because she died for him.
> 
> Gabriel is not Harry.
> 
> Harry is long since dead.
> 
> Thus, the protection no longer exists.


	12. Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of the last one was a little awkward, I know, but bear with me.
> 
> Also! I am posting this chapter a day early because I can't do it tomorrow morning and later I have an appointment :) with a dental surgeon :) because my wisdom teeth are coming in and I need to have them out :) so fun :) :)
> 
> Anyway. Enjoy the chapter.

The fallout from Gabriel's trip through the trapdoor and Quirrell's subsequent death was surprisingly small.

A short announcement was given at dinner, almost an entire week later, that Professor Quirrell had left early due to unknown personal reasons. Gabriel, trying to conceal his smile at the phrase 'personal reasons' kept getting elbowed by Michael, who seemed endlessly confused as to why he kept giggling in the middle of dinner.

There was never an announcement as to what had happened that night in June - since none of the students save Hermione and Gabriel even knew of the dog in the third floor corridor, much less the series of challenges which lay under its guard, there was no need to. And since none of the students except for Gabriel even knew what had really happened to Quirrell, it was doubly unnecessary for the teachers to tell anyone.

Gabriel was sure that they had been endlessly confused by it. The teachers looked a little harried in the days leading up to the end of the school year, and Gabriel was sure that when Dumbledore had returned from wherever he'd been a crisis had immediately confronted him.

Everyone had done well on their exams - Hermione, as it turned out, had managed to get a hundred and twelve percent on her Charms exam. Gabriel wasn't quite sure how, as no extra credit had been offered that he remembered.

Michael had done slightly better than him in some subjects, of course, but Hermione's scores beat everyone. One of the first-year Ravenclaw girls actually pinned Michael down and made him promise to tell her once he figured out how Hermione had done so well, to which ne nervously agreed.

Gabriel had done well enough on everything. Well enough to get into second year, at least, but in most cases better than the barest minimum. Something must have remain from the studying Hermione had forced him and Michael to do with her, because surprisingly enough he didn't fail his written History of Magic portion.

It was only as they were getting on the train for the ride back to London that Gabriel realized that he still had no clue what, exactly, he's stopped Quirrell from getting.

 _I'll end up resorted into Gryffindor at this rate,_ He thought to himself as Hermione dragged him and Michael into a compartment. _I think my vessel's been affecting me._

Hermione eagerly asked for telephone numbers, but Michael's family didn't have a phone and Gabriel blatantly told her that if she called him 'his' relatives would probably answer first and refuse to hand over the phone.

"At least owls don't need an address," said Michael helpfully, but they both looked a bit put out by Gabriel's prediction.

"Well then, I'll send lots of letters. And you two had better reply," said Hermione sharply. "My parents already asked over Christmas break if they could meet you two."

"Meet us?"

"Meet up over the summer? I don't know," Hermione said exasperatedly. "They just asked if they could."

"I'd probably be in London for most of break," said Gabriel, shrugging. Going back to the Dursley's wasn't the most attractive option, but he could just spend lots of time out of the house. It wasn't like they'd care. Besides, even if he didn't go back to Privet Drive Gabriel doubted he could find a place which rented rooms to an eleven-year-old.

Michael looked to be at a loss. "I live sort of down south," ne offered. "Near London, I suppose, but not very close. It's a good thing we've got a Floo, I suppose, because otherwise it would have taken ages to drive up here."

Hermione looked disappointed. "You don't have to," she said nonetheless. "It was just my parents talking. They've probably forgotten about it by now."

Michael nodded distantly. They passed most of the ride playing Exploding Snap, which Michael had to teach them how to play, since neither Gabriel nor Hermione knew the rules. Gabriel nearly swore when one of the cards blew up in his face, and Hermione eventually relented and lent him a handkerchief to wipe the soot off his face.

"Wizards take everything so _literally._ Exploding Snap cards that actually explode, every-flavor beans with things like grass and earwax - it's ridiculous," said Gabriel as Michael packed the cards away. The sun was reaching towards the horizon, which meant they would be back in London soon. Even the fields outside the window were becoming more orderly.

"I think it's quite fun, really." said Hermione. "It's the magic bit of the whole 'magical world'."

"I suppose." Gabriel restrained a smirk, wondering how far Hermione would go with the argument.

"Oh, come off it Harry, you don't like anything!"

"I do!"

"What's one thing you haven't disliked? You don't like how literal they are, you don't like Christmas-" Michael jumped in, listing off things and counting in nir fingers.

"I don't dislike Christmas-"

"Oh, so I just imagined your attitude over break?"

"I didn't say I _liked_ it, there's a difference."

"That's the same thing!"

"No, he's right," said Hermione, looking amused. "But it's just a technicality."

"HAH!"

"How come you're taking his side? You can't just switch!"

"I'm not switching!"

"You were on my side in the beginning!"

"If it helps, I'm on your side, Michael."

"You're the one I'm arguing with!"

* * *

 King's Cross was just as crowded as it had been on September first. On the wizard side of the barrier there was a guard who sent them through in twos and threes, probably to make sure that ten of them didn't burst out at once and alert the Muggles.

There were parents strewn around the platform, waiting for their kids. As Gabriel passed through the barrier guarding Platform Nine and three quarters, he wasn't surprised to see that the Dursleys were nowhere in sight.

"Where are your relatives?" Hermione asked, as she and Gabriel were still walking together. Michael had gone off with his parents, Flooing away and promising to write lots of letters.

"Probably just waiting outside," Gabriel lied. He'd had to take a bus up to London in September, and it was no great stretch to see that the Dursleys expected him to do the same thing to get to their house. It was more tempting than ever to just stay at the pub in Diagon Alley all summer.

Hermione looked only mildly reassured, but as she spotted her parents Gabriel slipped away through the crowd. If adults got involved then they'd probably insist on accompanying him outside, which would only raise a load of awkward questions.

The money Gabriel had taken from the vault he'd been left had only been used to buy his things for the upcoming school year. As he'd simply swept a load of coins into the bag, there appeared to be plenty of it left. He'd also noticed a Galleon-to-pound exchange counter at Gringotts, which he'd used just in case. As Gabriel caught a bus just outside of the station, it seemed that the idea had been smarter than he'd thought.

He'd have to hide his money pouch well - if the Dursleys ever caught wind of how many pounds he had, never mind the gold, they'd take it before he could say 'extortion'.

The bus only took him so far, though, and Gabriel ended up walking several blocks to get to Privet Drive. As he arrived on the front door, he thought he saw someone peering through the curtains from across the street.

The aunt answered the door.

"Hello," Gabriel said. "Unfortunately I'm stuck here over the summer."

The aunt's eyes darted to the window of the house across the street, where a curtain was hastily pulled shut. "Get inside," she hissed.

As Gabriel stepped over the threshold the aunt practically slammed the door behind him. She eyed his trunk warily.

"I'll just be going upstairs." Gabriel hauled his trunk up the carpeted stairs and found that someone (most likely Dudley) had tossed a load of broken toys and candy wrappers onto the floor of his room, and various other surfaces. Gabriel eyed the mess distastefully and let his trunk thump onto the ground, wondering if he should really waste his Grace cleaning it up.

"Home sweet home," he said sarcastically to himself. "What a great summer this is going to be."

* * *

 

Summer that year on Privet Drive was simultaneously the worst and the best that Gabriel had ever had, for two reasons. The best, because the Dursleys continued to ignore him, and now he could actually go out and do stuff, thanks to his exchanged money. And the worst, because for some reason Hermione and Michael had decided to not write to him. At all.

"We'll write lots, we promise," Gabriel muttered to himself as he walked around somewhere near what counted as downtown in this tiny suburb. "Lots and none at all it is, then." He'd entertained himself by reading the Lord of the Rings books Hermione had given him for Christmas, and found a copy of the Hobbit included which he hadn't noticed before.

"Maybe Hermione hasn't sent anything because she hasn't got an owl," Gabriel mused, and then grimaced at his own hopefulness. He was turning into an actual child. This was ridiculous.

 _Screw them,_ he thought. _If they're going to be like that I suppose I won't send anything either. Not that I could._ Gabriel didn't even own an owl.

And Hermione not having an owl either would be no excuse - she'd even asked for his Muggle address, and Gabriel had given it, so an owl wasn't even necessary.

 _Maybe she forgot it?_ Gabriel told the childish voice sitting in the back of his mind to shut up.

He kicked at a stone on the sidewalk in front of him as he wandered past brightly colored storefronts and under the mild shade of their awnings. All the time he spent away from the Dursley's house couldn't stop him from being completely and utterly _bored._ There was nothing interesting to do, and even the money he'd exchanged couldn't buy puzzles or anything even remotely challenging.

This summer was shaping up to be absolutely horrible.

"There's nothing to do," Gabriel griped. "It's - what the hell?"

He had paused by the window of the bookstore he was passing. There was a large poster tacked up on it, which featured a posed actor and the words 'The Guardian Angel'. It wouldn't have attracted his attention at all, had the name 'Gabriel' not been typed in the corner. The word 'Dominion' was emblazoned over the top of the poster, with smaller words underneath it declaring that it was on television at eight o'clock on Thursday.

"The fuck?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know Dominion was not around, but I now realize that I haven't explained the new timeline to you guys. From Gabriel's point of view, it's not whenever the summer before second year was in the books (1991? I think?). 
> 
> As far as this 'verse goes, which you may have noticed in the confrontation with Quirrel, the Potter incident on Halloween was in 1998, not 1981. Going off of that, first year took place in 2009. This means that the series ends roughly around present day, if present day is about two months ago. Thought I should clarify that before we got any further!
> 
> Comment, please! I love hearing from you guys and kudos just don't have as much of an effect.


	13. A Mysterious Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to the beginning of... *drumroll* *deep voice speaks from nowhere* THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS
> 
> I sincerely hope that whatever happens to Gilderoy Lockhart lives up to your expectations. Honestly, just the thought of him and Gabriel in the same room is hilarious. Imagine what could happen if Gabriel were at full power.
> 
> Summer won't go by quite as fast, but we'll probably be on the train to Hogwarts by the end of the chapter, just because there's not as much to do - no bars on the window, no Ron to come by and rescue him even if the bars did go up.
> 
> Anyway. The Basilisk won't know what hit it.

Dominion was stupid.

Scratch that - it wasn't just stupid, the show and more specifically the character itself was a complete insult to Gabriel and every other archangel. Waging war against humanity? That sounded like something  _ Lucifer  _ would do. And all for his Father to come back?

Actually, that sounded like exactly what had happened on the Earth Gabriel originally camped out on. Except it wasn't  _ him  _ leading it but Lucifer. The show seemed to have switched their roles, but kept Michael as the good guy - and worse than that, they'd completely fucked up his wings. They weren't  _ black. _

Through some liberal spying around the neighbor's houses (not Privet Drive, no one there would watch a show like Dominion), and a couple semi-telepathic suggestions, Gabriel had managed to catch a glimpse of a few episodes. It only took the first one to convince him that someone was playing a very cruel joke.

The man who the show claimed was Gabriel couldn't be anything other than an outright insult. Gabriel wondered how a person could go about getting a show cancelled.

Hermione and Michael still hadn't written to him. Gabriel, by now, had made his way through every Lord of the Rings book that had ever been published (The Unfinished Tales had been incredibly frustrating to read).

Summer had dragged on, Gabriel had stayed bored and plotted ways to cancel television shows, and eventually, August arrived.

With not a crash, or a hiccup, but a party.

The Dursleys were all downstairs, awaiting some sort of rich client from the uncle's company. Gabriel had been forced to stay in his room this time, not like every second he spent actually in the house was spent in his room anyway.

He could hear them preparing downstairs but did his best to ignore it. One thing Gabriel did not intend to spend the evening doing was listening to the Dursleys suck up to this guy.

One thing he did intend to do, however, was check on his Grace. He hadn't used it all summer (and the semi-telepathic stuff didn't count, because that didn't actually use up any Grace) and so it  _ should  _ have been roughly where it was at the start of the school year.

Not so.

It was ever-so-slightly less than that, and Gabriel growled as he noticed it. What was  _ wrong  _ with his Grace? Nevermind taking so long to come back, he'd been using up large amounts of it for the most ridiculous, menial things! 

Something was definitely wrong, but the mere fact that he  _ had no Grace  _ prevented Gabriel from figuring out  _ why.  _ The worst part was he’d been so distracted the last year at Hogwarts that he’d forgotten to concentrate on looking up the ritual, in favor of the diadem mystery and Quirrell.

Something clattered downstairs. They must have been having dinner. Gabriel returned his attention to the problem that currently sat in front of him.

Some time later, there was a sharp crack behind Gabriel. He spun around, standing up at the same time and sending the chair clattering to the floor.

There was some sort of creature standing in front of his door, in the middle of the room, wringing its hands. Gabriel stopped dead.

"Who are  _ you _ ?"

The creature cringed away from his bewildered question, its hands moving even faster. "Dobby is sorry, sir! But Dobby has come to tell you...Dobby wonders where to begin..."

_ Is this thing seriously talking in third person. _

"Why don't you start at the beginning?" Gabriel suggested dryly. "That's usually the best place."

The creature - Dobby - shifted. "Dobby has come with a warning," he said eventually. "Dobby has come to tell Harry Potter... that Harry Potter  _ must not go back to Hogwarts. _ "

Gabriel stared at it. Sounds of the Dursleys talking drifted up from downstairs.

"Excuse me?" He eventually asked, voice dripping with incredulity.

"There is great danger," Dobby said solemnly. "Harry Potter must not go back! He must stay where he is safe! There is a plot, a plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year." He had begun trembling a bit, which didn't make Gabriel the least bit sympathetic. "Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril! He is too important!"

"Oh, and what, I'm just supposed to stay here?" Gabriel asked angrily. "I've got friends waiting for me, you know!"

"Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter?" Dobby asked pointedly.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Dobby," he said slowly. "How did you know that I haven't been getting letters." It wasn't a question.

Dobby gulped. "Dobby thought that if Harry Potter thought he had been forgotten-"

" _ Have you been blocking my mail?" _

Shaking, Dobby pulled a thick sheaf of envelopes out from under...whatever he was using as a tunic. Gabriel darted forwards to grab them and Dobby popped across the room with another sharp crack.

Gabriel gave the creature his best glare.

"Dobby," he hissed. "If you do not give me those letters right now then you will be wishing for quite a lot of things to be happening instead of what you will be going through."

Dobby was stubborn, Gabriel would give him that. He kept the letters firmly out of reach, though he was trembling furiously.

"Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!" he said shrilly. "Harry Potter must not, sir!"

Gabriel leaped closer and grabbed Dobby by the front of his tunic, shoving him against the wall and seizing the letters, throwing them onto the bed.

"I am going to Hogwarts," he growled, very close to the creature's face, letting his Grace show so that Dobby properly knew what he was dealing with. "And you or any others of your kind will do nothing to stop me, do you understand?"

Dobby looked terrified. He vanished again, this time with a crack even louder than the one that had announced his arrival. Gabriel stood up sharply, swearing, before he realized that all the noise downstairs had stopped. Heavy footsteps were coming up the stairs, the uncle shouting something downstairs.

_ Oh shit. _

Gabriel's door was practically slammed open. "What the devil are you doing?" The uncle hissed. "You've just ruined the punchline of my Japanese golfer joke! One more noise like that, boy, and you'll wish you'd never been born!"

He turned and stormed out again, shutting the door loudly. Gabriel glared after him and then stuck out his tongue. His mental list had another question added: What. The Hell. 

Just in general, what the hell.

The nearest place he knew of that could give him answers was Diagon Alley. Gabriel cast a speculative glance at his half-unpacked trunk. Did he really feel like going all the way down to London just to get some answers?

Gabriel was out the door by seven the next morning. He'd left a scribbled note for the Dursleys, not that they cared, but at least this way he wouldn't get arrested for running away.

The buses only ran during the day, otherwise he might have left that night. As the double-decker rattled around on its way downtown, Gabriel read his way through the letters he'd gotten from the weird hobgoblin thing. They were all from Hermione and Michael; the stack was large, and the tone of the letters got progressively more worried as the date drew nearer to present day. Michael had started asking if Gabriel had been kidnapped. Hermione's got shorter and shorter, as if she automatically assumed that Gabriel was ignoring her letters. Gabriel resolved to borrow an owl from someone in Diagon Alley and write back to them before September.

Gabriel had vaguely remembered that Diagon Alley was somewhere in the vicinity of a place called Charing Cross, so as soon as that stop was called out he hurried to drag his trunk off the bus and make his way to the pub. It took half an hour of walking up and down the street to find it again, and the bar was nearly empty as Gabriel shoved open the door.

He made his way over to the pub, where the barkeeper seemed amused to see him. "Staying until the start of the year again?"

"Yeah," Gabriel said, annoyed at how out of breath he was. Angels didn't  _ get _ out of breath.

"You sure your family's okay with this?"

"They're fine with it." Gabriel waved his hand dismissively. "We talked about it last night." A thought occurred to him. "Hey, do you know anything about magical creatures that look sort of greenish, big ears, about yay high?" Gabriel gestured with his hand.

"You mean a house elf?"

"A what?"

"House elves," the bartender explained. "They're servants of a sort - live for work, the little bug- I mean, they like it. A lot of the old pureblood families have 'em."

"Thanks." Gabriel dug out his money pouch. "Is the room I used last time still unoccupied?"

"Sure." The man accepted the Galleons Gabriel handed over. "You can go right up - and let me know if you need a hand to get into the alley, alright? Just because this is a no-Muggles area doesn't mean you can go breaking the Underage Magic restrictions."

"I know."  _ Damn.  _ He’d been hoping to have a chance to learn something interesting.

The room was just as dirty as Gabriel remembered, not entirely fondly, but if this was what every room was like he'd rather have one he knew wasn't infested with anything. Gabriel let his trunk thud to the floor, glad to have somewhere to keep it - at least, until September.

"House elves," he mused aloud, sitting down on the bed. "Why would a house elf try and warn me about a dangerous plot? Was its owner doing the plotting?"

The more time he spent in the wizarding world, the more questions built up.

The bookstore proved to be absolutely no help. There was nothing on house elves, not even a pamphlet. Gabriel had resorted to charming adults into answering his questions, but none of them were very helpful. Even the shopkeepers weren't. The man who ran the ice cream parlor just shrugged when Gabriel asked.

"Don't look at me, son, I'm just a Muggleborn." He wiped his hands on a nearby towel. "You want your usual?"

"Sure." Gabriel had been coming to the shop at least once a day. Ice cream was amazing and even if they offered flavors like 'Ice Mice' or some other magical confection even the magical world couldn't ruin it. Mostly he got chocolate or some variant with chocolate in it. Chocolate was the best.

Okay, so maybe being a Trickster had affected him more than Gabriel cared to admit.

It was closer to September when Gabriel ran into someone he knew.

He was just wandering the street, really, having looked through all the shops already when someone shouted "Harry!" and collided with him. Gabriel staggered to the side and almost gone on the offensive against whoever had tackled him before he realized it was Michael.

"What have you been  _ doing _ all summer?" Michael asked when ne finally let Gabriel go. "I sent you tons of letters and you didn't reply to a single one!"

"You know, that's actually a really interesting story.." Gabriel said as he regained his balance.

Michael seemed at least slightly sympathetic, and very interested as ne listened to Gabriel explain about the obviously crazy house elf. 

"Why does weird stuff always happen to you?" ne asked. Ne had been told about the cerberus right after Gabriel and Hermione had discovered it, but hadn't had any clue as to what it was guarding either.

"No idea," Gabriel replied, shrugging.

"And it said there was some sort of plot going on at Hogwarts this year?" Michael looked troubled. "Should we tell someone about this?"

"Probably," Gabriel said. "But who's going to take the word of a house elf?"

"Good point." Michael looked thoughtful. "Dumbledore will probably figure it out of something does happen - he's the headmaster, after all. He'll probably take care of it without any of us knowing what's going on."

_ More like  _ **_I'll_ ** _ take care of it, _ thought Gabriel as he remembered how he'd had to take care of Quirrel. "So what did you do over the summer? I never really got the chance to read your letters." Gabriel had read them, but they hadn't exactly been detailed, and besides it was more interesting to hear it straight from Michael.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!
> 
> Short chapter, I know, but I didn't want to drag it on. And the intro chapter is always a little short, so...tada? Comment, please!


	14. A New Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHAT. FRIDAY, ALSO KNOWN AS: NEW CHAPTER DAY
> 
> And I'm binge-listening to Celtic music again. No one will ever stop me.
> 
> Not much to say with this one. I realized as I was reading through it that there are several bits I'd like to rewrite, but in the spirit of integrity I'm keeping my edits little, so the story stays basically the same. And it would be kinda unfair if all the guys who already read this where I originally posted it missed out on my spectacular editing.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy.

Gabriel had met up with Michael again, intending to help nem get nir things for the new year, but the Alley was more treacherous than usual. Gabriel was jostled out of the way almost as soon as he left by a woman rushing past and nearly beheading him with her elbow, which was jutting out to the side to make room for the bags on her arms. Gabriel rubbed his neck as he watched her hurry down the Alley towards Flourish and Blotts, which looked to be packed.

"What is going  _ on _ in the bookstore?" People were piling into the store and forming a line that wound down the alley.

"No idea." Michael said. "Maybe those posters in the window will tell us?"

They wandered closer. Gabriel wrinkled his nose as he saw the posters advertising someone named Gilderoy Lockhart, who looked like he was entirely too self-promoting. "Who's this nut?"

"Lockhart," Michael explained. "He's a famous wizard - he's done all sorts of things, like taming werewolves or getting rid of ghosts who've been haunting someone. I heard about him from Thomas."

"Huh." Gabriel examined the titles of the books he could see stacked against the glass and tried to remember who Thomas was. Another Ravenclaw? Gabriel was almost certain he was the one who’d nearly blown up the common room experimenting with charms with a sixth-year. "And he wrote a book series about it?"

"I guess." Michael shrugged, nir tone conveying that ne didn't know much more than Gabriel. "Mum likes him, though, we've got his book about magical pests lying around somewhere, just in case."

"Hey-" Gabriel suddenly spun around, a smirk on his face. "Don't you still have to buy your books?"

Michael glanced down to the money pouch in nir hands. "Oh, no."

The bookstore was absolutely packed full, people [mostly witches] lining up to see a man at the front of the store. It looked like it was Lockhart - he was wearing gold robes, as if needing to get across the idea of how amazing he was.

"I've already bought mine," Gabriel told Michael as they ducked out of the way between two shelves. "So I can tell you with absolute confidence that we have to get his entire set of books. I was  _ wondering _ where I recognized the name."

Michael groaned. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me. They're so expensive!" Ne glanced down at the bag in nir hands again. "I hope mum's given me enough to buy all that."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Gabriel said, still grinning. "But good luck making your way up to the register in this crowd, or even getting your hands on a copy. I think they're selling out."

Michael shot him a dirty look. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"It's not  _ my  _ fault you waited so late to buy your things."

"Come on, you're helping me find everything."

"What, why?"

"Because I'm not going to go through all this-" Michael gestured vaguely, waving nir hands, "-by myself!"

Of course, all of the Lockhart books were on a shelf near the front, which meant Gabriel and Michael had to shove their way through the very easily irritated crowd. There were seven mandatory Lockhart books to get, and Michael shoved at least half of them into Gabriel's arms.

"There is  _ no  _ way I'm carrying all that myself," ne said, maybe a little too loudly, as it attracted Lockhart's attention.

He zeroed in on Gabriel. "It can't be Harry Potter!" He practically shouted, leaping to his feet. The crowd all turned to Gabriel as well as Lockhart pulled him forward, sending the books crashing out of his arms.

Lockhart evidently was trying to get a picture. Gabriel yanked his arm away from the man and backed off. "Do you make a habit of grabbing twelve year olds out of crowds?" He asked acidly, picking up Michael's books again. Everyone went completely silent, and Lockhart looked a bit stunned.

"Come on," Gabriel muttered to Michael, walking off towards the back of the store and dumping the books on a nearby table. "We'll get your stuff later, I hate crowds."

"Since when?" was Michael's only response, but ne followed Gabriel all the same. There was another boy leaning against the railing of the stairs which led to the second floor of the shop.

He was looking at Gabriel oddly. Gabriel thought he looked slightly familiar.

"I would have thought you'd love that," the boy said. "Famous Harry Potter. Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"Shove off," said Michael defensively.

Someone spoke from behind them. "He didn't want all that!"

Gabriel turned around. It was a girl, maybe about eleven, holding a cauldron stuffed with slightly tattered books.

"Oh look, Potter," the boy said. "You've got yourself an admirer." He looked the girl up and down. "You must be a Weasley."

"There's no call for that," said Gabriel. "She's a kid."

"Obviously, you know nothing of wizard society." The boy sniffed.

"I know you're being a prick for no reason."

"What?" The boy seemed actually startled that he'd been called a name.

"Draco!" Someone called. A man came sweeping down the stairs. He was nearly a perfect, if older, copy of the boy Gabriel was talking to...or more likely, the boy was identical to him.

"Ah," he said in the same disdainful manner. Gabriel suddenly remembered where he's seen the boy before - he'd told him to try again when he'd stopped mimicking his father but holy hell, Gabriel hadn't expected them to be practically twins.

The man's eyes skimmed over Gabriel. "Harry Potter," he said softly. "I see you have met my son, Draco."

"We've encountered each other," Gabriel responded, equally coolly.

The man's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Gabriel was all-too-aware that he's stepped over the boundary of simple introductions. This man was a politician - cunning in its fullest, and perhaps richest, if the rings on his fingers were anything to go by.

"Perhaps a new start would be better," he said silkily. "I am Lucius Malfoy." Gabriel's eyebrows raised slightly, something which Malfoy Senior obviously took note of. "You have heard the name before, perhaps?"

"Nah," replied Gabriel. "I just speak French."

Something switched in the older man's eyes, and he became much cooler.

"I think I'll be going," said Gabriel lightly, smiling fakely at the man. "Crowds aren't really my thing." He strode past both Malfoys without paying them a second glance.

The door swung shut behind him and Michael, who let out a long breath. "What was that?" Ne asked, a tone of slight incredulity coloring nir voice.

Gabriel was about to reply when someone else yelled "Harry!" For the second time that day.

"Oh Hell." Gabriel had just gotten the words out when he was grabbed by the arm, spun around, and shaken thoroughly.

"A  _ whole summer _ full of letters!" Hermione shouted at him as Gabriel tried to keep his balance. "And you never replied to  _ any  _ of them!"

"Hermione-" Even Michael looked a bit alarmed. "Calm down!"

"Calm down?"

"I never got any of them!" Gabriel told her, trying to get his arm out of her iron grip.

Hermione blinked in confusion, letting go slightly. "You what?"

Michael butted in again. "He's got a good explanation, trust me." Hermione waited patiently as the Gabriel explained (again) about Dobby and how he'd been blocking all of his letters.

Hermione looked abashed as he finished. "I suppose you didn't deserve that, then," she said awkwardly.

"It's fine." Gabriel waved her off. "If I'd been ignored all summer I would’ve slapped me." 

Hermione still seemed anxious, but as they walked down the alley that wore off. Michael was spirited back to bookstore by a woman who was obviously nir mother, promising to meet them in the pub later. Hermione introduced Gabriel to her parents too, who seemed nice enough.

"It's very nice to meet you," said Ms. Granger, but they both seemed slightly distant until Hermione rolled her eyes and explained (not in full detail) about the whole letter fiasco, after which they became much warmer.

"She was talking all about you during Christmas," Mr. Granger said as they sat in the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for Michael. Hermione blushed lightly.

"Daaad," she hissed. Gabriel repressed a smile and pretended he hadn't heard.

"And where are your parents?" Oh boy.

"I'm here by myself," Gabriel, said, hurrying to concoct an explanation. "None of them really like magic, so I usually stay here by myself for a week or so before school, then they come and give me a ride to King's Cross."

Neither of Hermione's parents looked very please with that, but they didn't have time to push the issue. Michael showed up, laden with books and nir mother trailing behind nem. Ms. Corner (“Call me Nia, please.”) fell to talking with the Grangers, as Gabriel, Hermione, and Michael clustered around the other end of the table. 

"Have you seen Lockhart?" Hermione asked. "I was in there earlier, and his books aren't very well written but he's done so much!"

Gabriel eyed her in slight incredulity. "Sure. He grabbed me out of the crowd and tried to take a picture with me."

"Oh - well," Hermione seemed flustered and Michael jumped in and quickly changed the subject.

"Did you hear about what happened to Quirrel?" Ne asked.

Gabriel darted a glance at Michael. "No?"

"He's gone missing." Michael leaned forward eagerly to tell them about it. "He went on leave from Hogwarts but he never turned up at his house, and apparently it's been empty all summer. People are saying he's been killed."

"Don't talk about things like that!" Hermione looked scandalized. "I'm sure he hasn't been. Right Harry?"

"Right," Gabriel agreed slowly, hoping that Hermione wasn't any good at picking out lies as his mind flashed back to last June. He decided that another topic change was in order. "Why d'you think we need all of Lockhart's books for Defense this year?"

"Who says they're for defense?" Michael asked.

"Well all the other books we had to get are for the other classes."

"It's because he's teaching at Hogwarts this year," Hermione informed them. Gabriel stared at her.

"You're  _ joking." _

"I am not!"

"We have to deal with him for an entire year?" This was going to be terrible.

"Should we add Lockhart to the 'Things Harry Hates' list?" Michael teased.

"Since when is that even a thing?"

"Since the train ride home last year."

"Is it an actual list? You seriously wasted time writing it all down? Give me that."

"No- hey!"

"Give it!"

"Hermione, help!"

* * *

 

"Have a good time at Hogwarts!" Ms. Granger kissed her daughter as they waited on the platform. The Hogwarts express was sitting next to them, as red as usual and steam pouring from its small chimney. Gabriel looked away pointedly.

He'd hitched a ride with the Grangers to the station, after asking Hermione for her phone number and calling them on the thirty-first, pretending that something had come up with his family and he didn't have a ride to the station. Really, he just hated taking the bus. The Grangers were perfectly willing to drop by the Leaky Cauldron and get him on their way to King's Cross.

"Bye!" Hermione seized Gabriel's hand and pulled him towards the train, their trunks scraping on the ground. They piled their trunks onto the luggage racks and then Hermione went to find Michael while Gabriel saved their spot.

As she left, Gabriel spotted the group of redheads on the platform again. The girl who had defended him in Flourish and Blott's was carrying her own trunk - it must have been her first year. Gabriel let his gaze wander over the platform, taking in the crowd of students and parents and pets in cages and trunks lying haphazardly around the platform. He was sure that he recognized a few of them, but he'd barely expended the mental space to remember the teacher's names, much less other student's...and that was mainly because he spent an entire year around them.

Gabriel slid back into the seat of the compartment. He was back for another year. Gabriel wondered if he would really go for all seven years - he was steadily working out how to get the little magic core to work, and more schooling would definitely not go amiss - it was, for the most part, his only current method of defense.

His Grace, being the problem that it was.

Gabriel shifted and put the thought of his Grace away for some other time. Yes, school was necessary for now. Whether it would take all seven years to get a good handle on his magic remained to be seen - he hadn't had the time to try out any spells while in Diagon Alley, and he couldn't practice it at all while he was at the Dursley's, so for now school it was.

The compartment door slid open and Hermione came back in, Michael in tow.

"Hey," Michael greeted Gabriel.

"Where were you?" Gabriel asked. "It took you ages to get back."

"They were all the way at the other end of the platform," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "Even though I specifically said to meet up here!"

"All of the fireplaces for Floo are at the other end!" Michael protested. "How do you think I get up here on time?"

"Alright, enough arguing," Gabriel said. "I don't wand to listen to you two bicker for nine hours while we ride into the wilderness."

"Hogwarts is hardly the wilderness, Harry."

"There's a _ forest  _ on the grounds, how many schools do you see that at?"

"Anyone for Exploding Snap?" Michael asked out of the blue, holding up nir deck of the cards.

“What, so you can lose again?”

“Not this time, Harry.”

“You tell yourself that.”

As the train rushed past meadows and fields that grew steadily more untidy and wild, the trio in the compartment had several visitors.

First was the girl from Flourish and Blotts, who didn't come in but instead blushed and ran off when she noticed that they had seen her. Second, was the younger Malfoy.

"What do you want  _ now _ ?" Gabriel said exasperatedly.

"I was just coming in to ask if you'd reconsidered," he said stiffly.

"Reconsidered what, if I wanted to join you in 'the proper realm of wizards'?" Gabriel asked sarcastically. "Because no, I haven't, really."

"I came here without Crabbe and Goyle for a reason," Malfoy said stiffly. "And I meant if you wanted to be friends."

Gabriel stared. Michael and Hermione did, too.

Gabriel considered his options carefully. On one hand, Malfoy had been rude to him before, on the two occasions they'd run into each other, and he'd also been rude to the girl who he'd most likely never met. On the other hand, he was being completely honest right now, and he hadn't said a thing to Hermione, so...

"Sit down."

Hermione shot Gabriel a stunned glance as he swept the candy off the seat next to him like Hermione had done last year. Malfoy, with a glance at the other two people in the compartment, did so.

"Harry-" Hermione closed her mouth as Gabriel put a finger over his lips in example.

"So," Gabriel said cheerfully. "How about that Exploding Snap game?"

It turned out that Malfoy wasn't very good at Exploding Snap.

He'd been very different than Gabriel remembered through the entire ride - he hadn't gone out of his way to talk to Hermione, but he hadn't insulted her either. Obviously he'd actually thought about what Gabriel had told him. Michael and Hermione seemed wary of him, but after the third card blew up in Malfoy's face they seemed to take that as recompense for all of his rudeness and simply continued on.

Malfoy - or rather, Draco, now that they actually spoke to each other, was quiet for most of it, but talked more as it became clearer that no one was going to kick him out. He liked Quidditch, apparently, and as neither Gabriel or Hermione had much experience with it besides the school games they had been to he eagerly explained how it worked to them.

"I'm definitely going to be on the team this year," he boasted. "First-years aren't allowed so I couldn't last year, but now I can actually try out."

"For what position?" Gabriel asked, having given up on remembering everything that Draco had explained at practically the speed of light.

"Seeker," Draco said proudly. "It's the most dangerous position - everyone targets them."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Er...because they're the most important," Draco answered after a moment, staring at her like he couldn’t believe she didn’t already know. "If the seeker catches the snitch then the game is over and their team gets and extra hundred and fifty points."

"A hundred and fifty?" Hermione said. "That's ridiculous."

"That's Quidditch,” Draco said sagely. “Anyway, I’m sure to make the team - Father bought me a Nimbus two thousand and one, they’re the  _ best. _ ”

“Don’t forget to  _ practice, _ ” Michael muttered, and Gabriel kicked Draco in the ankle before the boy could say anything stupid. Gabriel watched carefully as Draco seemed to struggle for a moment before swallowing back whatever comment he’d been about to make.

There was hope for him yet.

* * *

 

The four of them separated once they reached the carriages, Draco disappearing to be with the other Slytherins. The trio found one for themselves, a thankfully empty one, and got in hurriedly.

"What do you suppose is pulling it?" asked Gabriel as the carriage lurched, following a path that presumably led to the school.

Hermione exchanged a confused look with Michael.

"Nothing's pulling the carriage, Harry," she said after a moment. "It must be enchanted to pull itself."

Gabriel glanced again at the front of the carriage to ensure he wasn't hallucinating. The weird horse thing was still there.

"No, there's definitely something pulling it."

"Are you alright?"

"Look, just-" Gabriel took Hermione's hand and pushed it against the top of the horse thing. Hermione shrieked as, to her eyes, her hand collided with something that wasn't there.

"What?" Michael had jumped at her yell.

"There's something invisible!"

"I just told you that!" Gabriel let go and Hermione snatched her hand away.

"Hold on," Michael said. "How come you can see them, then? I don't see anything."

Gabriel shrugged. "No idea."

"What does it look like?" Hermione had quickly graduated from 'scared' to 'curious'.

"Bit like a horse, really." Gabriel looked at the creature again. "Um, it's black. Bony-looking, like it's just a skeleton with skin."

"Ew," Michael interrupted.

"It's got wings, too," Gabriel carried on. Hermione was frowning.

"I've never heard of anything like that." She cast a speculative glance at her hand, and then rubbed it against her sweater. "I'll have to look it up once we get to the castle."

* * *

 

Gabriel watched with interest as a flood of new students entered the hall, and he remembered what it was like to be the one surrounded by older kids in black combined with all sorts of colors and to look up and see the stars instead of a ceiling, and candles floating. Even the sight of Lockhart sitting at the staff table couldn't ruin the first night back in Hogwarts, with the now-familiar banners waving from the walls.

He noticed the girl from the bookshop in the line of new students, next to someone who had such pale blonde hair it looked almost white. As the Hat was placed on the stool and its brim opened wide Gabriel thought to himself that a singing hat was still incredibly weird.

"What's so funny?" Michael whispered as Gabriel grinned to himself.

"Nothing," Gabriel whispered back, clapping as the first student was sorted into Ravenclaw. The first years are gathered at the end of the table near where Gabriel is sitting - on the first night, at least, there appears to be a set order, the upper years sitting farthest from the hat and leaving a space at the other end of the table for the new students to sit.

There were five new Ravenclaws that year, the white-blonde-haired girl one of them. She had brought a magazine with her, stuck in one of the pockets, and was reading it upside-down at the table. Her yearmates seemed confused, and none made a move to talk to her. The redheaded girl was sorted into Gryffindor, and the group from last year (her brothers, no doubt) started cheering and whooping as soon as the hat announced it.

Dinner was also the same, down to the dishes of mint humbugs. Michael started a conversation about Quidditch that turned into a contest of 'my team is better than yours' between nem and everyone sitting near enough to hear, or shout down the table, sans Gabriel of course.

Prefects chivvied the first years up to the dorms, everyone else leaving before them as the two fifth-year prefects did their best to organize the new students into lines. Gabriel smirked as he passed the knocker, and its eyes gleamed as he passed it. He still hadn't returned the paper to its hiding place, and had no intention to.

They had new dorms this year - Gabriel and the others had moved to the second-year boy's dorm, and Gabriel idly wondered what the new students would think of the witch lights that were probably still hanging in his old bed.

Michael said goodnight as ne moved off to nir own dorm, which had stayed the same since last year - there were no other students who felt like joining nem. Gabriel sat down on his new bed and wondered what sort of disaster the new year would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, please!
> 
> Also, if anyone notices if I mix up Michael's pronouns, please let me know! I keep catching 'he's' instead of ne.


	15. The Chamber of Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you all liked the last chapter! Bet you'll never guess what happens in this one.
> 
> Anyway, this is fairly routine, and not much happens aside from the overarching plot, so not much to say! I'll just leave it at 'enjoy'.

The school day started about as usual. Everyone piled downstairs for breakfast. The ceiling was nearly blocked out with owls delivering letters and things left behind in the rush to pack before school began. Schedules were handed out and students groaned as they saw which classes they had first.

Gabriel was just wondering why he was being forced to have Defense second period.

Lockhart was perhaps the most ridiculous teacher they had ever had. Gabriel's only experience came from last year, but he was still unsure how a man like that had gotten hired for the position. There were rumors that the position was cursed, right? Gabriel hoped that if there was one, it would take a hint and knock off the man before too long.

Their first class, which was mixed Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, comprised of a test which was made up entirely of questions like  _ What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?  _ and  _ What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?  _ and continued over two pages, double-sided, until number fifty-four, which was  _ When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be? _

Gabriel was sure at least ten minutes had gone by before he managed to get his head around the fact that yes, these were legit questions that they were supposed to be answering. He glanced over at Michael, who was already working with a bewildered frown.  


Sighing heavily and internally, Gabriel reached for a quill.

_ Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color is the same shade of brown as his natural hair color. _

_ His secret ambition is to rule the world via his fervent witch-only army of fans. _

_ His greatest achievement is his ability to utterly bullshit his way through everything. _

And so on, until...

_ His birthday is June 66 and his ideal gift would be some actual talent. _

When Lockhart collected the papers, he began going through them at the head of the class immediately. "Tut, tut - nearly none of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac! I say so in - er," By the way his face had adopted a strange expression Gabriel guessed that Lockhart had come to the paper he'd turned in.

Lockhart stuffed the pile out of the way and his beaming smile returned. "Now - be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fear in this room." He bent down behind the desk and pulled out a large, covered cage. "Know that no harm can come to you while I am here! All I ask is that you remain calm."

Gabriel, despite his utter disbelief in the man, found himself curious as to what, exactly, was in the cage. It couldn't be that, dangerous, or else it wouldn't have been allowed in.

His mind provided short flashbacks to the cerberus and the troll.

Okay, so maybe it could be a little dangerous.

"I must ask you not to scream," Lockhart said in a low, theatrically foreboding voice. "It might provoke them."

As everyone held their breath, Lockhart whipped the cover off the cage.

"Yes," he said dramatically. " _ Freshly caught Cornish pixies." _

Someone at the front gave a very obvious snort of laughter.

“Is there something you’d like to say?” Lockhart asked the student testily. 

"Well-" whoever was talking had a very thick Irish accent. "They're not very dangerous, are they?"

"Don't be so sure!" Lockhart wagged a finger in their face, from what Gabriel could see. "Devilishly tricky little blighters!"

Gabriel took a good look at the cage. The pixies were bigger than he might have imagined them being, and electric blue with tiny, pointed faces. Their calls were so shrill it was like listening to a load of broken dog whistles, which made many in the class wince.

"Right then," said Lockhart, and Gabriel suddenly realized what he was going to do right before he did it. "Let's see what you make of them!"

And he threw open the door of the cage.

Gabriel's foresight had given him enough time to shove his things into his bag and as soon as Lockhart turned away to open the door he'd sprinted for the classroom entrance. Even so, he had to surrender his bag to whatever caught hold of it to get out in time, running down the hallways with his robes flapping behind him.

From what he could hear of the classroom behind him, things were not going so well. This was confirmed at lunch afterwards, when a sullen Michael sat down next to him with a ripped sweater and Gabriel's bag as well as nir own.

"Thanks a lot for the warning," was all ne said.

"I have absolutely no regrets," said Gabriel, taking his bag back.

"You could have  _ said  _ something."

"I barely had time to get myself out of there!"

"How'd you know what he was going to do, anyway?"

"He's an idiot who thinks he can defend himself." Gabriel piled some food onto his plate. "Wasn't that big of a stretch."

Michael still looked put out. "Look, what do you want me to do? Fix your sweater?"

"D'you know a spell for that?"

"I do. Hermione showed me."

"Fine."

Gabriel watched as the spell knit the fibers of the sweater back into place. "There, happy?"

"No."

"Oh, come on." Gabriel nudged Michael. “It was every man for himself. Or themselves. I think I might just skip his class and go to the library for the rest of the year.”

“Don’t let Hermione hear you say that.” Michael smiled, a little reluctantly. “She’ll go ballistic.”

“Hermione’s not the scariest person I’ve met.”

“What kind of life do you lead?” Michael laughed.

“You have no idea,” Gabriel said, and made himself laugh too.

* * *

 

Gabriel had to spend quite a lot of time dodging Lockhart, who seemed to think that he wanted advice on how to properly be famous. Which he did not. How did Lockhart even have this much free time? Wasn't he a teacher? Didn't he have any other classes to terrorize?

Another person he had to avoid was a Gryffindor first year - C something, Gabriel thought his name was. The boy carried around a camera everywhere and did his best to snap photos of Gabriel, for whom he seemed to have developed some sort of hero-worship.

Gabriel still wondered what 'terrible plot' was supposedly being put in action. Nothing seemed particularly out of place. No one had been attacked yet. The Cerberus was gone [Gabriel had checked]. The only remotely dangerous thing in the school was the Venomous Tentacula in Greenhouse Three.

But Hogwarts being Hogwarts, the giant, mazelike, school of magic that it was, that didn't last long.

It was in late September that the first sign of something wrong made itself apparent. Gabriel was walking with Hermione down a corridor, just chatting about class, and Gabriel was ignoring Hermione ribbing into him about how he hadn't started his Herbology homework yet when something else spoke.

It was an ice-cold voice, with a hint of strangeness about it, like an unfamiliar accent, and if Gabriel had been anything but an archangel he might have been frightened.

_ Come... come to me... let me rip you... let me tear you...let me kill! _

He spun around, trying to figure out where it had come from. Hermione looked at him in bemusement.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

"Didn't you hear that?" Gabriel glanced up at the ceiling. Had it come from the next floor?

"Hear  _ what _ ?"

Gabriel turned to her. "Are you telling me that you didn't hear the incredibly threatening voice talking from right next to us?"

"Harry, no one said anything." Hermione looked worried now. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm..." Utterly bewildered was what he was. Gabriel took one last glance around. Was this related to whatever had been pulling the carriages? He was hearing and seeing all sorts of things that no one else could this year.

"Let's just go," Hermione suggested.

"Sure." Gabriel agreed, eager to leave the corridor behind until he found out more about what had spoken.

* * *

 

Hermione came up to him and Michael during a study period a few days later. October had dawned bright and chilly on the castle, and already warming charms were necessary to get comfortably through the corridors. People were already looking forward to Halloween, and some of the Muggleborn students were talking about arranging a costume party. 

Gabriel, meanwhile, had retreated to the library to look up anything he could find on rituals. He hadn’t gotten as far as asking Madam Pince yet, but he was on the verge of doing so. He hadn’t said anything to Michael, who’d looked desperately curious, but Gabriel had managed to excuse the odd literary preferences.  


Hermione looked nervous as she walked up. She was holding a copy of  _ Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them, _ its worn state indicating that it was from the library.

"Harry..." now she looked distinctly uncomfortable as well. Michael glanced up at her as well, both he and Gabriel curious as to what she was here about.

"I looked up what might be pulling the carriages, based on your description," she told Gabriel, sitting down. "I found this, actually, and I think I might know what it is."

"What?" Michael prompted, as Hermione paused.

"Thestrals," she said. "I asked the groundskeeper, Hagrid, and apparently Hogwarts has got a whole herd of them in the Forest. But, um..." Hermione trailed off, biting her lip.

"Yes?" Gabriel asked.

"They can only be seen by those who have seen death," she blurted out.

Oh.

Now Michael was looking at Gabriel oddly too. Gabriel felt a spasm of irritation. Of course he'd seen death, he was old as hell (older, even), not to mention meeting the Horseman himself, but it faded when he reminded himself that he was supposed to be twelve.

He affected a solemn look. "Oh."

Obviously no one was willing to ask the question, so Gabriel faked embarrassment and turned back to the so-far-useless book. The other two remained quiet until the end of the study period, but Gabriel could notice without looking the long, serious look they exchanged.

* * *

 

Gabriel was entering the castle when he encountered Sir Nick. He'd been outside wandering around the edge of the lake, partly out of curiosity, as it had occurred to Gabriel that there could be some sort of magical, aquatic life, but mostly because he’d found a ritual reversal spell that required the caster to be knee-deep in water, for some reason. He’d given up on the spell as bogus or impossible to cast in his current state when torrential downpour had started. He'd barely managed to get inside before it got too heavy, and even so he was soaked and his shoes were caked in mud.

"Oh-" The ghost stopped as he came around the corner, obviously surprised to see Gabriel.

"I don't suppose you remember a cleaning spell from your lifetime," Gabriel said dryly.

"Unfortunately, no," Nick said. He was holding some sort of transparent ghost envelope in his hands. Gabriel wasn't aware that ghosts sent mail.

"What's that?" He asked, pointing and contemplating whether he should really use his Grace to dry himself off.

"Oh? Er, it's nothing." Nick adjusted the collar which hid his nearly-severed neck in place. "Just a bit of correspondence."

"I wasn't aware ghosts could do that." Gabriel gave into temptation and darted a quick look around to make sure no one other than Nick was watching before snapping his fingers. The water evaporated off into a cloud of steam and the mud on his shoes vanished.

"We can," said Nick, watching in fascination, "Though it isn't very common. Takes a lot out of us."

"Who's it from, then?"

Nick went a darker shade of silver. "No one important," he grumbled. "Just that miserable...I mean," He continued louder, unfolding the insubstantial envelope, "You would think, that being hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would make me qualify, but no!"

"Qualify?" The ghosts here had much more interesting...er...afterlives than the ones Gabriel had known of previously. He was sure that the kind he was used to didn't do anything like this.

"For the Headless Hunt!" Nick burst out. "Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my head on but no, that's not good enough for Sir Properly-Decapitated Podmore!"

"For  _ who?" _

Nick seemed to suddenly remember who he was talking to. "But I'm sure you're not interested," he said hurriedly. "Didn't mean to unload on you like that. I - I think I'll be going." Nick swept off through a wall. Gabriel stared after him.  


"Who the hell is named Properly-Decapitated?"

* * *

 

Halloween arrived with a bang. Gabriel made sure to bring his wand to the table, remembering the troll disaster of last year. The Hall had been decorated more festively than he imagined, with the candles charmed to light up black and orange, and huge carved pumpkins hovering among them. Live black bats fluttered here and there around the ceiling, and it made Gabriel almost regretful that he hadn't come last year. The candy as well was a huge benefit, and it was a good thing that Hermione was in a different House or she'd have had an aneurysm for sure at how much of it Gabriel ate.

"At least you seem to like Halloween," Michael said, amused at Gabriel's enthusiasm for the treats.

"I like candy," Gabriel corrected nir, grinning around the lollipop in his mouth.

"Doesn't everyone?" Michael retorted, leaning over to grab one for nemself, and Gabriel nodded in agreement and glanced up again as a colony of bats flew overhead, chittering.

Halloween didn't hold a lot of Gabriel's good memories, but it certainly didn't hold any bad ones - he'd sometimes gone out to celebrate the Pagan holiday, picking at whatever the locals left out for those they believed would come by. He hadn't done this often, though - Halloween was a spirit's holiday, not one to honor pagan gods.

"What do you think's going to happen this year?" Gabriel asked Michael over the din of chatter around them.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, last year a troll broke in, right? Maybe something happens here every Halloween."

"Let's hope not." Michael said. "I'd hate for this to be interrupted."

"Seconded." Gabriel eyed a platter of Chocolate Frogs.

He had to forcefully remind himself of the possible limits while in his vessel, but Gabriel still stuffed himself on the candy with complete disregard for the food he'd eaten earlier. A sensation in the area of his stomach reminded him that he could still get full, but luckily this was near the end of the feast when everything was petering out and the roar of conversation had dulled to a light murmur.

Walking out of the Great Hall, they had to take the same route as the Slytherins for part of the way. Gabriel flashed a grin at Draco as he passed, who looked startled, and then nearly tripped Gabriel as the entire column of students came to a halt.

"What's going on?" Someone shouted from the back, and Gabriel had to wriggle his way through the crowd to a spot in the front. He stopped behind some third-years, craning over their shoulders to see what was going on and cursing his height - or lack of it.

Something furry-looking was hanging from a torch bracket, but that wasn't what had stopped the students. Most likely it was the message painted just above the bracket in something that looked eerily similar to blood.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE

_ Shit,  _ Gabriel thought to himself.  _ I guess the Halloween bad luck lasted anyway. _

He lowered his eyes to the furry thing again and realized what it was. It was the caretaker's cat, Ms. Something, and she was tied by her tail to the bracket with eyes wide at some long-gone horror. She was stiff, as if some taxidermist had come along and decided to practice their skill on her.

No one spoke. Draco and Michael were both standing behind Gabriel, each having pushed their way up to the front as well, but had varying reactions. Michael looked mildly sick, as if ne too had realized what the cat was. Draco looked torn between horror and something akin to delight - Gabriel frowned at him as he noticed this, which made Draco turn away quickly as soon as he realized he was being watched. The Slytherin ducked back through the crowd and vanished among the other students.

"What's going on here?"

Someone called out from behind the students, and Gabriel recognized the voice as belonging to the Headmaster. The students parted before him like the Red Sea to let him and the other teachers through, all of whom froze at the sight which awaited them. In seconds Dumbledore had swept up to the torch bracket and detached the cat.

"Someone alert Mr. Filch," he said quietly, Gabriel just barely picking the words up. Lockhart stepped forward.

"My office is nearest, headmaster," he said eagerly. "Just upstairs - please feel free -"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore, and he and the other teachers walked away again. McGonagall lingered for a moment.

"Continue up to your dorms," she called, her voice echoing around the hallway with the authority of a thousand professors. The students reluctantly started moving again, and as Ravenclaw broke off from Slytherin Gabriel ignored the murmurs and speculations tossed around him and glanced back to try and get another look at Draco. The strange look in the boy's eyes was bothering him, a little wiggle in the back of his mind that Gabriel couldn't ignore.

Back in the dorms, Gabriel abandoned getting ready for bed in favor of climbing straight in and shutting the curtains around him with a swish in the now-familiar move to gain some privacy in a room shared with three other boys. He sat back against the headboard and wondered if this was what Dobby meant when he talked about 'great danger' at Hogwarts this year.

One thought was running on repeat through his head.  _ What the hell is the chamber of secrets? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, please!


	16. Slytherin's Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter time! Binns's story about the chamber is, I admit, shamelessly copied from the book, as are several other smaller parts. Why is Dobby so hard to write? I have no idea how he talks. But anyway, I've had people bother me about that, so I'll let you in on a secret - at the time I wrote this, I had no idea what the fuck I was doing.
> 
> So yeah, copied. I had the book in front of me to remind myself what happened, because I haven't read Chamber of Secrets in ages.  
> Anyway, enjoy.

Hermione slammed down her books at the table next morning. Michael jumped, and it was only Gabriel's years of experience in keeping himself neutral that prevented him from doing the same.

" _ All  _ of the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out of the library!" She said, scowling slightly. " _ And  _ there's a two-week waiting list."

"Don't you have your own copy?" Gabriel asked, scrawling another sentence onto a History of Magic essay that he was completely making up, much like last year's written exam.

"Yes, but I had to leave it at home," Hermione sighed. "It wouldn't fit in my trunk with all the Lockhart books."

"Why do you need it so badly?"

"Honestly, Michael!" Hermione exclaimed, whirling around on the Ravenclaw. "The same reason everyone else wants it! To read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets!"

Gabriel frowned. Now that she mentioned it, he vaguely remembered reading about the place last year when he'd been looking for a clue as to the whereabouts of Muriel's secret room.

"What is it?" Michael asked.

"I don't remember," said Hermione in frustration. "That's the thing. I know I've read about it somewhere..." She suddenly caught a glimpse of Gabriel's paper. "How long is that?"

"Uh-" Bewildered, Gabriel borrowed Michael's measuring tape and stretched his parchment out. "Two feet?"

"Harry! We're suppose to have three feet! And History of Magic is next!"

"You've got History of Magic next," Gabriel corrected her. "I've got it first thing tomorrow."

"You've still only done two feet?" Michael looked surprised as well. "I thought you were working on the homework Snape gave us."

"The what?"

Hermione looked torn between a desire to help Gabriel and a desire to beat him over the head with the thickest textbook within reach.

“I thought we were talking about the Chamber of Secrets,” Gabriel said in an effort to change the topic.

“The Chamber of Secrets isn’t going to matter very much if Hermione kills you over not doing your homework,” Michael muttered, and then yelped when Hermione made as if to hit nem with one of her books. “Don’t!”

Gabriel laughed, and stood up. “I might as well start, then. I’ll go put this back.” The second part was true, but he fully intended to find another book on rituals. The sooner he had the freedom to leave his vessel, the better.

Now, though, with the friendship of Hermione and Michael, he was beginning to wonder if he  _ would. _

* * *

 

History of Magic was as boring as usual, Binns droning on in front of the class. Gabriel's presence didn't even phase him, unlike the other ghosts, nor had it ever seemed to; he just kept talking as the students draped themselves artfully over desks, usually at least half-asleep.

This class, though, something different happened.

Another Ravenclaw, Mandy something, was raising her hand. Binns didn't seem to notice, but eventually when most of the class was looking at her rather than listening it seemed to catch his attention. He stopped in the middle of a fatally boring lecture on the International something of the year who cares.

"Yes, Miss Brandywine?" There was an edge of irritation to the professor’s voice.

"I was wondering if you knew anything about the Chamber of Secrets," she said boldly.

_ That _ certainly got everyone's attention. They all started looking between her and Binns, Gabriel among them. He was  _ sure  _ he'd read about the place before, but details other than the fact that it was a secret room of Slytherin's escaped him.

Binns began to look slightly irritated, too. "The Chamber of Secrets is a legend," he informed them stiffly. "I deal with History of Magic, not myths but facts." He began to go back to the lecture when Mandy raised her hand again.

"Please, sir, regardless of truth, legends and stories can offer valuable insights into the human spirit and societal values of the time, and additionally may contain bits of truth-"

“Alright!” Binns looked about to refuse her, when he looked around properly and saw that he had the entire class's attention for once. Gabriel didn’t doubt that it was a unique experience.

"Very well," Binns sighed. "The Chamber of... let me see..."

"You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago - the exact date is uncertain - by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age,"  _ And one angel,  _ Gabriel thought to himself.

"The four school houses are named after them - Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age of persecution and fear from the Muggle folk.

"For a few years, the Founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more  _ selective  _ about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was an argument, some say a violent one, on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school.

" _ Reliable _ sources tell us this much, but these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin built a hidden chamber in the castle-"  _ Of course he did, they all did,  _ Gabriel thought _.  _ "-Of which the other Founders knew nothing.

"Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unlock the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to remove from the school of all those who were unworthy to study magic. Of course, this has been taken with Slytherin’s extreme views to mean killing them."

Binns carried on, but Gabriel ignored him, turning the story over in his mind. Slytherin had, no doubt, built a secret chamber - Muriel's letter attested to that. The mysterious 'monster' might have been left as some sort of guard originally, though he kind of doubted it, and the bit about only the heir being able to get in made sense. 

He knew it existed, but a warning he remembered from Muriel's letter distracted him.

' _ The other Founder's halls are their own secrets, and unless you are decreed worthy of their House leave those secrets be until the right one comes along.' _

He might have been worried about that, had his own hasty intervention not been the only thing keeping him from being Sorted into Slytherin. Gabriel figured that that counted as being 'decreed worthy'.

Now all that was left was to find the place.

And he was running on even fewer clues than last time.

Was this going to be a theme throughout his years at Hogwarts? Try to help himself and get distracted by some kind of dastardly, Founder-related plot? He hoped not, but he had a bad feeling about it.

* * *

 

"D'you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?" Michael asked as ne and Gabriel went on to their next class, which was Transfiguration.

"Why not?" Gabriel shrugged. "Certainly plenty of places it could be. It's not like anyone's mapped out the school."

"I suppose," Michael said. "It's a bit far fetched, though. I mean, a secret chamber with a monster in it that only one person can release? Sounds like something out of one of the Muggle books my mum's always reading."

They turned the corner and found themselves in the corridor where the message had been written. It was still there, dark red as ever - which made Gabriel inclined to think it was paint, as blood would have turned brown by now - but much less ominous now that pale sunlight was streaming onto it through a window.

Michael kept nir eyes on it as they walked past. "I wonder who did it, though," ne said. "Must have been one of the students - I can't imagine the teachers doing anything like this."

"I think everyone's blaming the Slytherins, honestly," remarked Gabriel. "Bit stupid, though. Who says the heir is in that house?"

"Where else would they be?" Michael was looking at him in surprise.

"Come on," said Gabriel. "Even to a first-year it's obvious that no one likes the Slytherins." He remembered his own Sorting. "Anyone with a bit of actual cunning would get themselves Sorted into a different House. And even if they're descended from Slytherin that's no guarantee that they're cunning at all, or even ambitious."

Michael's expression had changed to one of thoughtfulness. "I didn't think of that."

"I might be the only one who has."

They walked a little further in silence, and then Michael said, “What first-year would think of that, though? I mean, an eleven-year-old can only be so cunning, I think. Kids are kids.”

“That’s just another reason blaming the Slytherins is stupid,” Gabriel replied, summoning a smile. “By that logic, we can only blame teachers or seventh-years.”

Michael snorted. “I think Dumbledore would keep the teachers in line.”

“Maybe it’s Lockhart. He’s too much of an idiot to be scared of Dumbledore.”

“Ha! Maybe.”

* * *

 

Gabriel refrained from attending the first quidditch game of the season - Gryffindor versus Slytherin - on the grounds that he didn't care and that it was miserable outside. Michael rolled nir eyes at that, but Hermione was perfectly willing to stay in and nag Gabriel about the homework he hadn't yet finished.

"Oh, give it a break just once, Hermione," Gabriel complained, wishing that Draco was still inside the school so he could finally ask the Slytherin about his happiness on Halloween. "We've got an entire free period!"

"And you've got an entire Potions essay to write," she said severely.

"I can do that later!"

"You've been saying that all week!"

Eventually, Gabriel managed to escape to the library and pretend he was studying. He spent all of three minutes in there, marking down the locations of a few likely books, before heading for the east hall.

Maybe Muriel had written down the locations of these 'secret rooms'.

There was no way it was going to be that easy, though.

The stone slid aside and the door creaked open, and Gabriel once again slid down the railing of the staircase to Muriel’s secret room, this time reaching the bottom much quicker. He remembered where the door into the room was, and it creaked open at his touch, his faded signature still visible on the parchment. The room was exactly as he had remembered it.

"Aright," Gabriel spoke into the dusty air, putting his hands on his hips. "Let's see what this place has to say about old Slytherin."

As soon as he spoke, Gabriel was forced to duck - several volumes had plucked themselves off the shelf and come sailing towards him. They landed on the floor with dusty thumps, and as Gabriel turned around in shock he saw that neither had titles.

"Some sort of retrieval system?" He mused, picking up all three books and looking around for a table. Gabriel settled for clearing the desk off carefully instead when none were in sight, removing the journal and placing it carefully on top of some stacked parchment. "Handy. Now, what do we have here..."

The first book was nothing but a handwritten version of what amounted to an attendance log of students and staff.

"This is not helpful," grumbled Gabriel, putting it aside. It jumped out of his hands and flew back to the shelf.

The second book he tried was a little more helpful, but it was just a mix of Binn's story and what Muriel had written; each of the Founders had left their own room behind with some sort of guardian, and it was rumored that Slytherin had done a little bit more than that.

"I already know this," Gabriel groaned as he closed that one too. "Is there anything in here that  _ isn't  _ a repetition of something I've already heard?" Luckily, none of the books jumped off the shelf at that.

The third book was the thickest yet, and Gabriel didn't fancy flipping through it to try and find where it mentioned Slytherin. "Is there anything in here about the other secret rooms?" He asked aloud. Nothing moved.

"Of course." Gabriel shoved the chair back irritably, opening the book to a random page. "I suppose I'll have to track down the Slytherin common room and see if whatever guards it has got anything."

"Well, at least if I find Draco I can get two birds with one stone." Gabriel glanced down at the book in irritation, and almost flipped it closed when something caught his eye.

"Hold on, Slytherin could speak to snakes?"

_ He’d  _ spoken to the snakes at the zoo only a year before, but he hadn’t seen it as anything out of the ordinary...but now that he thought, he hadn’t been able to make much conversation with Mrs. Figg’s cats, either. His talent for tongues, or at least animal ones, had flagged ever since his Grace had been depleted. Either something had changed, which was unlikely, or his  _ vessel  _ could speak to snakes.

And he’d heard that mysterious voice in the walls...

Gabriel wondered what kind of enormous magical snake creatures one world could possibly, theoretically, have.

* * *

 

Gabriel didn't bother trying to find Draco immediately, given that he was playing in the Quidditch game and not even in the castle, and instead explored Muriel’s room a little more. It yielded nothing more than what his first impression had revealed to him, but it was only idle curiosity anyway. Later, once the game had ended, Gabriel started his attempt to talk to Draco in earnest.

It wasn't like Gabriel knew the Slytherin timetable and he did have his own classes but come on, it had to be easier than this! There was a time when he could have charmed a second-year out of her schedule and gotten the information an an hour later. As it was, he was far more constrained than he liked by his school schedule and Hermione’s homework time in the library, which she berated them for if they missed it. Gabriel was not quite sure why he kept showing up, but he stayed fond of Hermione nonetheless. As for Draco, Gabriel blamed his failure on being trapped in a twelve-year-old body. He was also quite distracted with what he'd learned about Parseltounge, and wondering why his vessel of all people possessed the talent. 

Something else happened, however, that took his mind completely off Malfoy and snake-language.

Gabriel woke up in the middle of the night because something small was standing on him.

"What the- you!" It was Dobby. Gabriel had to struggle to keep his voice down. "What are you doing here?"

The house elf was wide eyed. "Harry Potter sir came back to school...Dobby warned him not to..."

"Yes, I came back here, you  _ insane _ creature. What the hell are you doing here?" Gabriel hissed.

Dobby didn't answer, instead choosing to shift silently on the bed.

"You were going to do something to try and convince me to leave, weren't you?"

"Dobby is sorry," the house elf said quietly.

"I don't suppose you'd like to tell me why you want me sent back so badly?"

"Aah," the house elf almost wailed, and Gabriel hurried to shush him. "If only Harry Potter knew! How great was the day when You-Know-Who was defeated! How things improved so much for us when the darkness was gone! And now at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, or perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here when history is repeating itself and the chamber of secrets is open once more."

Gabriel's hand locked in an iron grip around Dobby's arm. "Open once more?" Gabriel repeated. "You're saying that this has happened before?"

"Harry Potter must not meddle in this," the house elf muttered, trying vainly to free his arm and looking panicked, as if he'd said something he shouldn't have. "Harry Potter must go home where he is safe-"

"Harry?" Someone sleepily muttered. The house elf froze, and then vanished with a pop.

"What?" Gabriel said back, trying to keep a lid on his irritation.

"I thought I heard you talking."

"To who?" Gabriel asked dryly. "Go back to sleep, you're dreaming."

There was no more talking and Gabriel stared angrily at the spot where Dobby had disappeared, wondering who had opened it the first time.

* * *

 

Michael was enthralled when Gabriel told nem what had happened last night. "It's been opened before?"

"Apparently."

"When?"

"I don't know!" Gabriel threw his hands up. "He just said 'history is repeating itself' and then he left before I could ask anything else."

"What do you think's in the chamber anyway?" Michael mused.

"No idea." Gabriel glanced back down at the book he was supposed to be reading and wondered if Hermione would actually murder him if he left it for later. In his defense, it was boring. "Suppose some sort of snake thing, that being the crest and all."

"Did you hear what happened?" Hermione sat down next to them, interrupting their conversation. Gabriel hadn't heard her coming; he hurried to look absorbed in the book.

"What?" Michael looked bewildered.

"Someone else has been petrified!"

"They've been what?" Gabriel asked blankly.

"Petrified," Hermione repeated. "Like Filch's cat! On Halloween!"

Michael glanced at Gabriel with slight horror in nir eyes. "A person?"

"Someone in Gryffindor." Hermione informed them. "I think it was a first-year - you know, that kid who's always going around with a camera."

"Oh, him." Gabriel glanced over at the Gryffindor table - sure enough, there was no sign of the usual flash of someone taking pictures. Gabriel wondered what the kid had done to deserve getting petrified. Wrong place at the wrong time? “Was he Muggleborn?”

“Yes.” Hermione sounded upset. “He was only a first-year! Mrs. Norris is one thing, but a whole person-” She broke off and shook her head, biting her lip. “Honestly, I’m getting a little nervous.”

Most people seemed to share her opinion. The news of the attack spread through Hogwarts more quickly than Gabriel had imagined possible. Rumors and other ridiculous suspicions were rife, thickening the air and making students travel in small groups as opposed to on their own.

Hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans and other sorts of protective charms sprung up, and Gabriel had to stop Michael from buying a strange green crystal which possessed absolutely no power and looked like something from a hippie, New-Age Muggle shop.

"You're a half-blood," Gabriel said scathingly as he dragged Michael away, "Not a Muggleborn! What did you want that for?"

"It's just in case," Michael protested halfheartedly.

"Just in case of what, you get mistaken for being 'unworthy'?"

"Maybe!"

"You're an idiot, Michael." Gabriel said bluntly. "And you're not going to be attacked."  _ Not as long as I'm around. _

* * *

 

Christmas, Gabriel decided, would be the perfect time to corner Draco. He'd seen the Slytherin's name on the list when he signed up to stay over the holidays like he'd done last year. Hermione would be going home again, and this year Michael would as well - something they both looked guilty about until Gabriel told them to stop worrying about it. After that, they only looked guilty when they thought he wasn't looking.

Hermione almost wrote home to ask if she could stay over the holidays, but when Gabriel asked her if she really wanted to spend time with her friend over having Christmas with her parents, she reluctantly conceded the point. Besides, in the meantime until the holiday started, Christmas was pulled from their minds by news.

"A duelling club?"

Michael had told them the news at breakfast, since Gabriel hadn't noticed it when he came down. Hermione seemed to know already, but she listened patiently as Michael spoke.

"Do they really think Slytherin's monster can duel?" Ne said disbelievingly. "Still, it might be worth a shot, you know."

"Not if Lockhart's teaching," Gabriel muttered, which made Hermione look at him disapprovingly.

"I don't get why you-"

"Come off it, Hermione, the first quiz we got in class was on his  _ favorite color." _

Gabriel watched in mixed amusement and surprise as Hermione blushed slightly and muttered something nigh-inaudible under her breath about him being better if one actually  _ attended the class, Harry _ .

"Let's just go see what this Duelling club is," she said irritably. “It can’t be that bad.”

Hermione, Gabriel thought later, had  _ absolutely  _ jinxed them. In the non-literal sense; he hoped she didn’t know any actually jinxes, though it was a very likely possibility.

Lockhart was teaching it, and Gabriel almost left there and then, except for the grip Michael had on his arm to stop him from doing exactly that.

"Come on, let go."

"No way. I'm gonna suffer through him and so are you. We might actually learn something."

"From  _ him _ ?"

Snape had climbed up onto the stage as well, lip curled in his customary sneer.

"Let's just hope they finish each other off," Gabriel whispered to Michael, who snorted, covering nir mouth to try and hide nir smile.

Snape looked about ready to do so; Gabriel got the feeling he disliked Lockhart as much as the rest of them did. He and Lockhart were holding their wands like swords in front of them, and Lockhart was going on some ramble about proper duel etiquette, and how they would cast non-lethal spells only.

Gabriel snorted - rules and regulations were for court knights who could barely hold their own in a real fight where their opponent wouldn't play by the rules. Gabriel had once won a small bit of land like that once, but he hadn't been able to enjoy it as the knight he'd beaten had promptly burnt it down in a fit of anger at how he'd lost the fight. It had been rather rude of him. Gabriel shook himself out of his thoughts as Snape and Lockhart simultaneously cast spells at each other.

Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He went sailing backwards off the stage and hit the wall hard, sliding down into the crowd. Several people cheered. Hermione was on tiptoes, hands over her mouth, trying to see if he was alright.

Unfortunately Lockhart appeared to be perfectly fine, staggering to his feet after a few seconds and saying some nonsense about how he knew exactly what Snape was going to do.

"Enough demonstrating!" He eventually called out. "I'm going to come around and put you all into pairs, to practice on your own! Perhaps one day you’ll be able to perform similar feats, although perhaps you’ll avoid bad days like mine, ha ha. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me..."

Snape looked as though helping Lockhart was not only at the bottom of his to-do list, but so far down it had accidentally rolled into the fireplace and been singed off. Nevertheless, he moved into the crowd anyway. Gabriel partnered with Michael, and they both waited around for everyone else to get sorted into pairs. Snape swept by and eyed them critically, but he didn't say anything.

"Face your partners!" Lockhart called out. "And...bow!"

Michael actually bowed slightly. Gabriel rolled his eyes, and bowed back. Bowing was just an opportunity to get your head cut off, or to get your enemy to look away from you. 

"Wands at the ready! When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent-" Lockhart was declaiming from the stage, and all Gabriel could think was  _ You haven't taught us anything, dickwad.  _ "-and  _ only _ to disarm them! Ready? Three - two - one-"

Absolute chaos would probably be the best word to describe what had happened. Obviously, disarming charms were not the only spells being used. Michael had probably used one, but Gabriel couldn't hear what ne'd said over the collective shout and sidestepped it,  _ ooh _ ing in sympathy as it hit whoever was behind him and their wand went spinning out of their hand.

Someone had conjured a lot of green smoke, which hung hazily over the scene. Hermione had ducked away from her partner, who was attempting to put the Gryffindor in a headlock. Someone nearby was physically holding their partner up and apologizing for the result of whatever spell had been used.

"Well this all looks wonderful," said Gabriel sarcastically as he watched someone be cursed with uncontrollable dancing. "Really, a wonderful idea. Remind me why I didn't leave again?  _ Oh yeah."  _ He cast a meaningful look at Michael, who was ignoring him.

"Enough!" Lockhart shouted. Snape, standing on the other side of the room with a truly impressive sneer, was far more effective at making everyone quiet down. "Er - perhaps a practice demonstration duel would be better? Longbottom, yes-"

"That would be a bad idea," said Snape silkily. "You'll be sending whatever's left of his opponent to the hospital wing. Longbottom has a tendency to...mangle his work."

Gabriel thought this was rather unfair, as Snape was a Potions teacher and most likely had never seen 'Longbottom' perform a spell. Snape continued on, unaware of the mental workings of the person standing three feet from him. "How about Malfoy, and...Potter?"

Great. Gabriel revised his reflexive sarcasm almost immediately. This  _ was  _ great. Not only was Draco here, they were being maneuvered into place by outside forces. Gabriel didn’t even have to do anything.

"Excellent," said Lockhart, sounding relieved, and gesturing for Gabriel to step into the center of the room. The students around them quickly backed away to make room as Gabriel strode forward, and he soon found himself facing Draco across an empty stretch of stone.

Lockhart tried to give him some advice and instead dropped his wand, causing snickers to come from the Slytherin side of the room. Gabriel ignored him, instead watching Draco with a slight frown.

Snape swept closer to Draco and whispered something in his ear, smirking slightly as he backed away. Strangely enough, Draco wasn't smirking.

"Three - two - one - go!"

" _ Expelliarmus!"  _ Draco shouted, and again Gabriel neatly stepped out of the way. The spell hit Lockhart who, for the second time today, was sent reeling backwards, though not nearly as harshly as when Snape had cast the spell.

Gabriel flicked the spell off his own wand with a whisper while everyone was distracted with Lockhart, and hit Draco unawares. The boy watched with an expression of incredulity as Gabriel neatly caught his wand, pocketing both of them.

"You know, I think I win." Gabriel cast a grin at the boy across from him.

"Return Mr. Malfoy's wand, Potter," Snape said tightly, sending a look at Draco. Gabriel handed over the polished stick willingly.

"This is a duel," Draco said as he came closer to retrieve it. "You're supposed to play by the rules!"

"And where did following the rules get you?" asked Gabriel lightly. "By the way," he lowered his voice. "Could we talk later?"

Draco looked confused. "Talk?"

"Yes. Kind of like what we're doing now, minus the audience. Outside the Great Hall, over break, what do you say?" Gabriel grinned and left before Draco could reply. He had a feeling the Slytherin would show up.

* * *

 

Gabriel was walking back up to Ravenclaw tower to get his books for the next class (he'd forgotten to bring them to the period before and would use any excuse to be late to Lockhart’s class) when he heard the same hissing voice from ages ago, echoing in the walls.

_ Let me rip...tear... _

Gabriel jumped ever so slightly and glanced around hurriedly, but there was nothing in sight. The voice began to fade away, like it was going farther from him, and as Gabriel tried to follow it he eventually came around a corner and saw the strangest sight.

Maybe strange wasn't the right word.

Slightly horrifying would have been better.

A Hufflepuff boy was lying on the floor, rigid, a look of shock frozen on his face. He was positioned oddly, as if he'd been standing when he was frozen and then been pushed over backwards. But it was the figure of Nearly Headless Nick, who was floating motionlessly in front of him, that actually spooked Gabriel a bit.

The ghost was no longer silvery but black and smokelike, reminding Gabriel unpleasantly of a demon. His head was listing to one side, revealing his namesake in an unpleasantly visible way, and he wore a look of shock identical to the boy's.

Gabriel stood there frozen for several seconds before approaching cautiously. Nick he gave a wide berth, but he poked the boy with one shoe tip to see what had happened up close. His skin was inflexible, as if he were merely very realistically carved and painted wood, or even stone. Glancing to the side as movement caught his eye, Gabriel saw a long line of spiders fleeing the scene.

As Gabriel stood there looking over the scene critically, Peeves came bursting out of one of the side doors. He froze, just like Gabriel had, upon seeing the scene.

"Don't you dare go around telling people I'm responsible for this," said Gabriel quickly. That would have been the last thing he needed. Peeves nodded quickly, staring at Nick with an expression of horror.

"Get a teacher or something," Gabriel told him. "And I was never here, understand?" He turned around and hightailed it around the corner, opting to go the long way round to Ravenclaw tower as Peeves went shooting off. After only a moment, he heard Peeves screaming that there had been another attack, and the noise a faint stampede. No doubt everyone was piling into the hallway to see. Gabriel was glad he’d gotten away quick.

As Gabriel walked, he wondered  _ What could be powerful enough to petrify a  _ ghost _? _

* * *

 

The double attack so shortly before the holidays caused a flurry of late bookings for a seat on the train back to London. Practically no one was left in the castle - besides Gabriel, it was looking like Draco and his cronies would be the only ones there for the two weeks vacation.

The first day of vacation, after bidding goodbye to a wholly reluctant Michael and Hermione, Gabriel leaned against the threshold of the entrance to the Great Hall and waited.

He was not disappointed.

"You didn't even give me a date," said Draco irritably as he walked closer, having recovered quickly from the nervousness Gabriel had seen in him before Gabriel had been spotted. "How was I supposed to know you meant today?"

"You're here, aren't you?" Asked Gabriel with a small smile.

"And that's another thing," Draco said, stopping a few feet away. "Why did you want to talk so badly?"

"What else could it be about?" Gabriel stood up straight, gesturing with his hands for 'spooky' effects. "The Chamber of Secrets."

He could practically see Draco's interest sharpen. "What about it?"

"Come on," Gabriel told him, rolling his eyes. "We both know that you were thrilled the night it opened."

Draco seemed to guess his thoughts. "Are you implying that you think I'm the Heir?" he asked, astonished.

"I'm implying nothing."

"I'm not," Draco said sharply. "And I wasn't-"

"Happy? No, I believe I said thrilled." Gabriel interrupted dryly. "And I thought you were working on this hating Muggleborns thing."

Draco faltered momentarily. "I can't help it-" he began angrily.

"Of course you can." Gabriel snapped back at him. "You just don't want to disappoint your dad. That, and you've been told your entire life to think that. I get it."

"How do you know that?"

"Like I can't just guess?" It was incredibly obvious, to Gabriel at least. "Besides, I met your dad, remember? I've definitely heard of him." Gabriel had looked up old news articles in the library out of curiosity (and failed to turn up anything ritual-related), and while he was polite enough not to say it to Draco's face, he seriously doubted that the boy's father had actually been under the Imperius curse as a Death Eater.

Draco was silent for a few moments. "Is that all you wanted, then?"

"Pretty much." Gabriel could tell that he'd been telling the truth. "What did you want, and early Christmas present?" Crap, he still had to buy things for Michael and Hermione.

Draco looked unsure how to respond. "Er-"

"See you, Draco." He saw Draco start at being called by his first name, but Gabriel was already turning and strolling away. Draco made no move to call him back, and as Gabriel ducked around the corner he quickly pulled his invisibility cloak out of his magically expanded pocket, and what an excellent gamble that particular spell had been. Throwing it on quickly, Gabriel glanced around the corner again to see Draco heading to the other side of the hall.

Gabriel walked quickly to catch up. If Draco was going back to the Slytherin dorms, then they were much deeper in the castle than Gabriel had expected. He kept going down to the dungeon level, making Gabriel thankful that he'd stopped the hat from Sorting him into Slytherin, and through a maze of hallways until he came to an apparently blank wall.

"Pure-blood," he told the wall, and Gabriel raised his eyebrows at what was obviously a password. There was a carved snake on the wall which Gabriel hadn't noticed before and its eyes lit up green, the wall folding itself out of the way in a manner reminiscent of the entrance to Diagon Alley.

Draco walked in. Gabriel waited for the entrance to close before he whipped the cloak off, stuffing it back in his pocket as he approached the carved snake.

"Hel- _ lo _ ," he said conversationally to no one in particular. "Let's see what we've got here...what makes you tick, eh? Where's your secret message?" Gabriel's eyes scanned the carving, but no imperfections that would suggest a hidey-hole could be found - of course, the same could be said of the eagle door knocker on the Ravenclaw entrance.

"It was Enochian for Ravenclaw," Gabriel mused, "So maybe that snake-language would work?" Rare languages did seem to be a theme.

Gabriel looked up at the snake and tried to make himself speak to it as he would to an actual snake. "Have you got a message?" Nothing happened, probably because the words came out as English. Gabriel scowled, and focused on the snake again, until he could practically see it moving. He convinced himself it  _ was  _ moving, and its eyes were very dark black, and looking at him, waiting for him to say his piece.

" _ Have you got a message? _ " Gabriel repeated, except this time what came out was a series of odd hisses that he wasn't fully aware of making, but this was no time to be taking apart the intricacies of Parseltongue. In any case, it still didn't work.

" _ Salazar Slytherin? _ " That didn't work either. " _ Come on, open up! _ "

That yielded something. Like the eagle, the snake spat out a bit of parchment at him. Gabriel swiftly pocketed it and wrapped himself in the cloak again until he got back up to Ravenclaw Tower. It wouldn't do to be caught with something like this in his pocket, and anyways Lockhart was still wandering the castle -  _ he  _ hadn't gone home for Christmas.

What a shame. Gabriel could have used some peace and quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is 5,398 words long you guys had better appreciate this monstrosity.
> 
> Comment, please!


	17. Disasters and Petrifications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually just realized it was Monday. Ah, it's still an earlier update than most days! Happy Indigenous Peoples Day, everyone! I refuse to celebrate Columbus Day purely on principle, the principle being that he was an asshole who indirectly led to an entire continent's worth of land being stolen from the people who lived there.
> 
> Anyway, a nod to Oregon and Alaska for fixing that, and now let's get on with the show!
> 
> This chapter might be a little mean, but we're moving along with some of the action-y bits, and Gabriel's switching some events up again. Of course, some things have to remain constant...

Slytherin, as it turned out, was much less imaginative than Muriel had been, and that was saying something considering Muriel was an angel.

Or maybe Muriel just cared more about leaving a message.

Either way, the parchment the snake had given him was filled not with words or even proper sentences, at least.

This is how the parchment read in all of its three-inch-long glory:

TTHHEESETNUTDRYATNOCTEHTEHWEESSNTAFKAERGTUHAERSDTSFIRTOXM

That was completely unhelpful.

Gabriel had spent ages trying to figure out this code, only taking a break to figure out what to get Michael and Hermione as presents - For Hermione, he just duplicated his copy of The Unfinished Tales (which he'd brought to Hogwarts) while Michael ended up with a small Quidditch poster which Gabriel had bought off a Hufflepuff girl several years older than him. Gabriel was fairly sure that it was the team Michael liked, except he'd never paid attention during Quidditch discussions so he couldn't be sure.

Christmas came earlier than he'd realized it would be, and after hurriedly sending off the presents far too late for them to get there in time Gabriel was pleasantly surprised the next morning to find a pile of presents instead of just two or three.

Hermione had once again given him a book (this time it was on runes, with a note saying to look at chapter twenty-three), and Michael had sent him one as well, a thin book called 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard'. Not having been raised by wizards or around them for very long, Gabriel had absolutely no idea what it was, though a quick peek through showed that it was something like the magical version of fairy tales. There was an assortment of other presents from various people, including Hagrid and Michael's mom again, and even a fifth one from Draco, which Gabriel regarded thoughtfully before opening and resolved to give him something back. It was a simple silver pin, which caused Draco to do a double-take when he saw Gabriel wearing it on his tie later at dinner.

The dinner the night before had been as fabulous as last years', the crackers seemingly even louder when popped. Gabriel had found an assortment of thoroughly ridiculous toys which he left hidden around the castle for some random student to find, but a really lucky cracker provided a tiny spy kit which came with a book of codes. Gabriel pocketed that and made sure to leave it in his trunk when he went to disperse the other items around the school.

When everyone else returned from the holidays, however, it was to a still-tense atmosphere. There hadn't been an attack for so long that everyone was would tense waiting for the next strike. The talisman trade, too, was going on a strong as ever. Gabriel was the only one who ever walked around on his own anymore, and that was only because after the events of last year he'd been assured that, unless Slytherin's monster owned an angel blade or a bottle of holy oil and a match, it posed pretty much no danger.

Unless he did run into it and someone caught him still fighting after being fatally wounded, but hey, what were the chances of that?

What Gabriel did end up running into was a rather angry Filch, and he wasn't alone but instead with Hermione and Michael, who had insisted on coming with him. Gabriel could hear Filch muttering six feet away and decided to wait until the old caretaker had left before continuing on, holding out a warning arm to stop the other two from running into him. A door slammed, and Gabriel risked rounding the corner, seeing at a glance what Filch must have been so angry about.

The old caretaker must have been sitting under the torch bracket where his cat had been found, because there was a chair left abandoned there. Gabriel's attention, however, was mostly on the half inch of water covering the floor. It splashed as he walked, sending ripples everywhere, and Gabriel thought the sight looked familiar until he remembered that the corridor had been flooded on Halloween, too.

The water was seeping out from under a door to the right, and someone was wailing heart-wrenchingly inside.

"What's she up to now?" asked Hermione exasperatedly.

"She?" Gabriel asked.

"That's Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Hermione informed him, Michael listening in. "She haunts it. She's only a student ghost but she can be rather dramatic, so no one uses this bathroom any more."

"What  _ is  _ wrong with her?" Michael asked, glancing down at the water covering the floor again.

"Let's go and see," Gabriel said, splashing over to the door. It was probably a bad idea to do so with his friends with him, considering how ghosts acted around him, but Gabriel was too interested to care. What would make a ghost so sad? And wasn't it a bit dangerous to keep a ghost in the school who might so easily become vengeful?

Wherever the ghost was, the volume of her crying immediately increased as soon as they stepped inside, and it seemed to be coming from the stall farthest from the right. Even the walls and floors were soaked, and so the bathroom was darker than it should have been, the candles having been extinguished.

"Who's there?" the ghost hiccuped, and Gabriel wondered in the back of his mind how she did so without any lungs or organs to speak of. "Come to throw something else at me?"

"Why would we want to throw something at you?" Michael asked aloud, holding nir robes out of the water.

"Don't ask me," the ghost - Myrtle - shouted, emerging from the stall with another wave of water and seemingly ignoring Gabriel's presence. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it would be fun to throw a book at me..."

"Who threw it at you, anyway?" Gabriel asked. Myrtle looked at him sharply, as if she'd done a double take, and from where Gabriel had wandered over to the other side of the sinks where Michael and Hermione couldn't see him he gestured sharply not to say anything.

"I don't know," Myrtle sniffed, keeping an eye on Gabriel. "I was just sitting in the U-bend-" Gabriel wrinkled his nose at that. "-Thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head. It's over there, got washed out."

Gabriel glanced over, and was hard-pressed to contain his shock. The object looked like an ordinary book, but it had a distinctly dark and menacing aura. He waded over and picked the book up gingerly, before either Hermione or Michael could get it in their heads to try. 

It was dark blue, almost black, and in surprisingly good condition for something that had been dropped down a toilet. Probably due to whatever magic it was imbued with, which was grossly familiar. Gabriel used a bit of his robe to cover his hand when he picked it up because toilet water combined with black magic was an especially bad combination.

"Are you mad?" Michael demanded. Ne'd moved to stop Gabriel from picking it up. "It could be dangerous!"

"Dangerous?" Gabriel scoffed, and let it fall open in his cautious hold. "It's a diary. A blank diary, to be exact." No need to let on that he could see more than that.

"Well, some books can be," said Michael, who was still eyeing it cautiously. "There've been ones that burned your eyes out or ones you could never stop reading..."

"Well, obviously this one hasn't got anything to read." Gabriel shrugged. "And my eyes appear to be fine, so I'd go so far as to say this was probably something that someone hated for no particular reason and tried to drop down a toilet in a fit of anger." Gabriel held it up to examine it. "I wonder where they got it, though."

"Why?" Hermione asked, coming closer.

"This book's fifty years old," Gabriel pointed out, showing her the faded ink scribble of  _ 1942 _ . Gabriel turned the page idly with another carefully robe-covered hand and his breath caught.

T. M. Riddle.

Tom. M. Riddle.

No. Way.

"Harry?" Hermione was peering over his shoulder. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Gabriel temporarily ignored the repeated  _ holy shit  _ in his head. "Just thought I recognized the name is all."

* * *

 

"What the fuck is  _ that  _ soul shard doing in this diary?"

Gabriel was pacing back and forth in an empty dormitory, mind whirling at the puzzle that he was confronted with. It had taken him until after he’d returned to the dorm to recognize the little scrap of darkness inhabiting the journal, but now that he  _ had  _ he was furious for not having done so sooner. This was the third time it had had drifted into Gabriel’s life - how many more would there be?

He couldn’t for the life of him imagine how Voldemort might have gotten his hands on Tom Riddle’s diary, either. If they knew each other, though, Riddle might have given him more than that. Gabriel paused to scowl at the image of his Horn in the dark lord's hands. 

The diary’s power was what worried him, though. Its strength was unreasonable. Gabriel spun on his heel to face the desk where he’d discarded it. Shouldn’t there be wards in the school to prevent this kind of thing from getting in? Gabriel crouched down as closer to the diary as he could, without being overwhelmed by the absolute stink of the soul shard in it. 

“Where have you been all year that I haven’t noticed?” He asked it, not expecting an answer and very much hoping he wouldn’t get one anyway. “Someone had to have brought you into the school somehow. And then someone threw you into the toilet. The same someone, maybe.” Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t understand. The only way you managed to get in here last time was because you were...”

Gabriel faltered. 

"Leeching off someone," he whispered into the silent dormitory. "That's why you’re so strong. It's been taking someone else's power."

He glared at the diary fiercely, as if that would help. "And for what? You think the same tricks will work again? I should have finished the job last time.”

Full of contempt and irritation, Gabriel flipped open the diary again as if he intended to peruse its secrets. Its blank pages stared up at him almost mockingly. Gabriel shoved it away angrily and knocked over one of his ink bottles, the little hole for the quill spilling black ink all over the page.

"Sonuva-"

Gabriel stopped. The page was absorbing the ink, leaving none of it behind. Propping the bottle back up and ignoring the wet stain left on the table, Gabriel examined the book closely.

No ink stains at all.

Curious, he picked up his quill, dipped it into the inkwell, and scrawled  _ fuck off. _

The soul shard moved ever so slightly, reacting to the word he'd written which by now had been sucked into the page. In a sort of fascinated horror, because  _ it's sentient, what the hell,  _ Gabriel watched as words appeared on the page.

**_Hello. Who might you be?_ **

Gabriel decided to play the game.

He picked up his quill and wrote back.

_ Who are you? _

**_My name is Tom Riddle._ **

That was...odd. He wasn’t calling himself Voldemort? Gabriel felt a sudden surge of doubt, which was unnerving for its rarity.  _ Was _ the soul shard the same one as last year? How many of them could there possibly be? He lowered the quill, intending to ask it if it knew a ‘Voldemort’, but changed his mind at the last minute. If this soul shard was Voldemort, he’d lose any opportunity to get information out of it. If it wasn’t, but knew him, the same might happen.

What to ask, then?

_ What are you doing in a diary? _ Gabriel wrote.

**_I knew there would come a time when the knowledge contained in here would be needed._ ** The answer came rapidly; suspiciously so. Gabriel considered it anyway. Tom Riddle had a diary that was fifty years old. He'd been given an award for special services to the school fifty years ago. What if...

_ That knowledge wouldn't happen to be about the Chamber of Secrets, would it? _

**_How did you guess?_ **

No way.

_ Tell me where it is. _

There was a brief pause before a reply was written.  **_Why would you think that I know?_ **

_ Because I'm not stupid. When I see a diary belonging to Tom Riddle, same guy whose name is on a trophy for services to the school, and I know the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before, plus you mention necessary knowledge...not hard to string together. _

**_That doesn't tell me why you think I know where the Chamber is._ **

_ Call it a hunch. _

**_Why do you want to know?_ **

_ Because I'm looking for it. _ Gabriel decided to give him some incentive to answer.  _ I've already found Ravenclaw's, after all. _

**_Ravenclaw has a secret room?_ **

_ All the founders do. Where's the Chamber of Secrets? _

**_Where's Ravenclaw's room?_ **

_ A) I asked first, and B) which one of us actually has the ability to go traipsing through Hogwarts right now? Come on, Riddle. _

Riddle was silent for a moment. Gabriel grinned wickedly. It was too bad 'Tom' couldn't see it.

_ You're pouting because you can't reach my soul, can you? _

**_Why would I be after your soul?_ **

_ Because that’s what you were trying with the last person who owned this? Sorry to say I'm a little more savvy than the last person who picked you up. _

**_Where is your soul?_ **

_ Sorry to tell you, Tommy boy, but I haven't got one for you to take _

**_Impossible_ **

_ No, just improbable. _

**_A dementor?_ **

_ Try 'not human'. Now, tell me, or this diary goes boom. Where's the Chamber of Secrets? _

**_You'd have to do a lot more than that to destroy this thing. I delved farther than any have ever gone into the Dark Arts, and I left this behind so my legacy could be continued! I will not let some creature destroy all the effort I have put into ridding this school of mudbloods_ **

_ So it was you who opened it the first time round? _

* * *

 

Riddle didn't write any more after that (and could anyone spell 'pouting'? Gabriel could). Gabriel stuffed it inside the cover of one of his textbooks, to make sure the soul shard didn't get up to any mischief on its own. Who knew what it could do.

He didn't go to a teacher, of course. What would he say? He'd discovered who was responsible for opening the chamber of secrets and it was a sentient diary and could someone destroy it for him, please? Besides, Gabriel could handle it on his own. Depleted Grace or no, he was still an archangel.

There were, of course, some things he refused to handle.

Such as the scene he walked onto in the Great Hall on February fourteenth.

Gabriel took one look at the lurid pink flowers decorating the hall, not to mention Lockhart's matching robes, said "Absolutely not." and walked away.

He spent the entire day hiding in the Astronomy tower (those dwarves were persistent little buggers) and on his return to Ravenclaw tower was promptly given detention by Flitwick for skipping all of his classes.

Totally worth it.

Soon after that, the second-year students were gripped with the problem of picking next year's subjects. Gabriel, unfortunately, was denied when he asked if it was possible to drop Potions, but he got an amused and slightly sympathetic look from Flitwick when he did.

They had to pick at least two extra classes in addition to the core ones, and Michael spent ages poring over the parchment which listed their choices. The prefects were only too eager to advise them on their choices, but Gabriel just picked the two that looked most interesting and handed it back to Flitwick a week later so it would look like he'd spent some time on it. He had better things to do.  


Gabriel wouldn’t say  _ most  _ of his free time was spent in the library, looking up terrible creatures that could possibly be Slytherin’s monster or ritual reversals, but the former eventually took up so much time that Michael and Hermione started to take note. Without many choices left beyond lying directly to their faces, Gabriel ended up giving them a heavily edited, cliffs notes version of his conversation with the diary. They had both been horrified and interested, and both were glad that he'd stopped talking to the diary (Gabriel didn't mention that it had been Riddle who stopped first).

"So he was the one who opened it last time?" Hermione asked again for the tenth time. "And he didn't give a hint what might be in there? Or how it's been opened now?"

"No," said Gabriel, also for the tenth time. "Hermione, honestly, I just asked you to help me figure out what could be in the chamber."

"And what were your clues again?"

Gabriel sighed internally. "I saw a load of spiders leaving on Halloween, so that might be connected to it. Also, it's something that freezes its victims, hence the petrification. And it's probably some sort of snake, since that's the symbol of Slytherin's house." And because Gabriel could hear it talking even though most of his nonhuman translation abilities were on the fritz, or so he assumed at least. He hadn’t spent a lot of time trying to talk to animals.

"Hmm." Hermione flipped a page in the book, and Gabriel noticed that she was using her course requests as a bookmark. But that wasn't what surprised him.

"You signed up for  _ every single class _ ?" Gabriel leaned forward in surprise, trying to make out the course titles.

"Shut up," Hermione snapped, whipping the paper away and stuffing it in her bag.

"How is that even possible? How are you going to attend them all?"

"I'll take care of it," she said stiffly. "I've talked to Professor McGonagall. One moment, I've got to put this book away." Hermione stood up and left the table. Sighing, Gabriel watched her go, and scribbled a quick note saying he'd forgotten something in his dormitory before collecting his things and leaving. Hermione would be sniffy for the rest of the time they spent in the library and Gabriel was stretched too thin trying to figure out the Chamber's location along with all his other stuff to deal with a put-off twelve year old at the moment. The diary was being impossible, and he was getting no further with the clue. And he was  _ still _ trapped in a twelve-year-old body. 

Gabriel gathered his things and hurried out of the library. He bumped into someone near the front, dropping the books in his arms and causing both of them to stumble backwards. He'd run into the redheaded girl from the bookshop, oddly enough. She looked rather pale.

"Sorry," Gabriel said. Wide eyed, the girl hurried on her way, blushing furiously. Gabriel rolled his eyes and picked up his books. He was about to leave when someone called "Wait!"

It was the girl again. She was holding one of his books. "You forgot this," she muttered, holding it out.

"Thanks," said Gabriel absentmindedly, taking it back and shoving it in his bag as his steps directed him out of the library. He forgot about the encounter almost as soon as it had happened.

* * *

 

The next Quidditch game of the season took place that Saturday, which was bright and sunny and therefore Gabriel found himself being dragged out to the stands by an eager Michael, who was determined to get him to watch at least one.

Hermione had begged off to go to the library. Gabriel wasn't sure what had prompted that, but there was one possible explanation; as soon as he'd set foot in the entrance hall he'd heard that strange voice again, the one that had foretold Justin's petrification and the same one he'd heard before Halloween.

"What?" Michael asked, almost irritably. Gabriel had shouted in surprise when he heard it, making both nir and Hermione jump.

"I heard it again!"

"What-" Hermione seemed to remember something. "That voice?" She asked, in a hushed whisper.

"Voice?" Michael asked bemusedly, but Gabriel just nodded. Hermione looked as though she'd been struck with a sudden idea.

"I've just - one moment! I have to go to the library!"

"What about the game?" Michael shouted after her.

"Go on without me, I'll be down in a minute!"

"Let's just go," Gabriel said to a slightly put-off Michael. "The game'll probably be over before she comes out."

“ _ What  _ voice did you hear?” Michael asked as they walked out.

“It’s a weird story...”

Gabriel’s prediction about the game, however, did not come true.

They had barely begun to climb up into the stands when McGonagall came across the field, nearly running, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.

"This match has been cancelled," she shouted to the crowd, drawing out groans of disappointment. The players looked horrified, and one of them ran after McGonagall, who was turning to leave. They had a short conversation, but McGonagall shook him off and called out through the megaphone again.

"All students are to make their way back to their House common rooms, where their Heads of House will give further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

Gabriel and Michael turned to leave, but strangely enough, McGonagall came over to stop them.

"Potter...Corner...I think you'd better come with me."

Exchanging bewildered glances, they both followed the Transfiguration professor up through the castle. Gabriel's heart sank slightly as he realized they were heading to the hospital wing.

_ Please don't let this be what I think it is... _

"This will be a bit of a shock," said McGonagall in a surprisingly gentle voice. "There's been another attack...another double attack."

_ No. _

There were two more occupied beds in the Hospital wing, with Madam Pomfrey bustling around them. One of them was an older Ravenclaw girl Gabriel recognized as being one of the prefects, and in the one next to her was-

"Hermione?" Michael sounded horrorstruck.

Gabriel's insides seemed to have switched places. Hermione was lying on the bed, unusually still, just like Justin had been. He stared blankly at the sight as McGonagall spoke again.

"They were found near the library," she said. "I don't suppose any of you can explain this? It was found on the floor near them..."

She held out a small pocket-mirror. Michael shook his head. Gabriel was still staring at Hermione.

"I shall escort you both back to Ravenclaw Tower," said McGonagall heavily. "I suppose Flitwick will be addressing the students."

* * *

 

"All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities."

Everyone in the common room listened to Flitwick in dead silence. They were all shaken by the second attack, especially as this time one of their own had been taken. Flitwick rolled up the parchment and added his own voice. "I think I should warn you, though it may be obvious, that if the perpetrator is not caught Hogwarts may be forced to close." No one made any noise, though several people shifted uncomfortably and the first-years looked particularly distressed. "I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything to come forward."

Gabriel closed his eyes in mental indecision. Was keeping his species a secret really more important than finding who had done it? But catching the monster wouldn't cure Hermione. They'd have to wait for the Mandrakes before that happened, and who knew when that would be.

"Hasn't anyone noticed that only the Slytherins have been exempt from these attacks?" demanded one of the older Ravenclaws. Flitwick had left while Gabriel was debating with himself. "Shouldn't we be doing something?"

"Doing what?" Someone else asked in a thick, tearful voice. Gabriel left silently, leaving them to their debate. He slipped up the stairs to the dormitories and sat heavily on his bed.

He needed to find the Chamber of Secrets. Grimly, Gabriel pulled out the textbook he'd hidden the diary in.

It wasn't there.

Gabriel stared blankly at the sight before something burst in him and he tipped his entire bag out, sorting through the books and even looking in his trunk for the diary because this was  _ not possible,  _ he was not going to lose his only method of finding the place when he needed it the most!

There was a quiet creak behind Gabriel of the door opening. It was Michael. "Harry?"

Gabriel knew it had to look odd, him standing surrounded by a pile of tossed-aside books and a ransacked trunk. "It's gone."

"What's gone?"

"The diary!" Gabriel rounded on Michael. "The diary is gone and it can't be gone because I  _ need it _ !"

"Harry, calm down-"

" _ I will not calm down!"  _ Furiously, Gabriel snatched a pillow off the nearest bed and threw it at Michael. It hit the doorframe next to nir head. "Our friend is in the hospital wing looking like she's dead and you're telling me to 'calm down'?!"

"Harry-"

" _ Get out!"  _ Gabriel screamed at nem. The door slammed and Gabriel clenched the end of his bed to keep himself from falling over and he could faintly hear the wood creaking under his grip but he didn't care because  _ his friend was not going to die. _

_ Think,  _ he told himself furiously.  _ Where could you possibly have left it? _

He hadn't dropped any of his books, except in...

_ The library. _

It came to him in a flash. The girl had returned one of the books he'd dropped, saying he'd left it behind, but Gabriel had definitely picked them all up. She could have seen the diary poking out of one of the books, or maybe it had fallen out and she hadn't noticed, but either way it was most likely her who had the diary right now. Who else could have taken it? Who else knew he  _ had  _ it?

He needed to find her.  _ Now. _

* * *

 

It was absolutely impossible to find the youngest redhead.

Gabriel didn’t have any classes with first-years, and although he vaguely recognized the girl from the Sorting he had no idea who she actually was. He couldn’t ask Ron, because they’d barely spoken since Gabriel’s first time on the Hogwarts express and Hermione was no longer there to introduce Gabriel. Even if he  _ could  _ find and track down this girl, how the hell was he supposed to get her alone to confront her about it? That was creepy and weird enough that someone else might take notice.

But Gabriel had to do  _ something. _

Pacing the hallways, out after dark and against the rules, Gabriel cursed and kicked the wall before slumping against it. He didn’t have any  _ ideas.  _ What was he supposed to do without his Grace, without anything that made him  _ him  _ other than his personality and some puns? Even the invisibility cloak wasn’t good enough to actually  _ get  _ him places that he couldn’t physically get to. What was the fucking point of him when he hadn’t been able to stop Hermione from getting Petrified?

Gabriel moved to kick the wall again and felt something running over his foot. A spider climbed up the wall in front of him, speeding towards the window, and was quickly followed by another.

Wait.  _ Spiders. _

He hadn't thought there were any left in the castle - they seemed to flee with every attack. Gabriel watched them go with narrowed eyes, and then looked up out the window.

The Forbidden Forest loomed at the edge of the grounds, dark and menacing and exactly where the spiders seemed to be going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What was that? A hint, perhaps, at the next chapter? Never.
> 
> Comment, please!


	18. In Which Gabriel Is the Knight in Armor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, that cliffhanger was mean, even I'll admit that. But guess what? Now you get to find out what happens next!
> 
> And phew, yeah, Gabriel's *pissed* that Slytherin's monster managed to get to Hermione. Any chance it had of staying alive just got catapulted out the window. Not that it had much of one in the first place. I mean, archangel versus basilisk? Basilisk doesn't have great odds.

An invisible figure drifted across the lawn, the grass flattening under his feet. Under the invisibility cloak, Gabriel held his wand tightly by his side, drawing closer to the Forbidden Forest. As he made it inside the first layer of trees, he drew the cloak off. No one would be able to see him in the darkness, especially not from as far away as the school.

Gabriel bent almost double, trying to make out whether there were any spiders on the ground. By chance, one crawled by just then, and Gabriel quickly lit his wand to follow it more easily. It moved rapidly, so so did he.

Gabriel hurriedly stuffed the invisibility cloak in his pocket one-handed as he followed it, trying to keep the wandlight focused on it. It was going ever deeper into the forest, and several times he almost lost the thing among the thicket of trees and all sorts of undergrowth. Twice Gabriel was sure something moved in the blackness around him, but he didn't dare look behind him for fear of losing the spider.

It was because of this that the bigger one took him unawares.

Something seized Gabriel around the middle and

Something seized Gabriel around the middle and lifted him swiftly into the air, his head facing downwards towards the floor. Struggling to get out of its grip, he saw the forest falling away on either side of him as the creature carried him in deeper.

Head hanging, Gabriel saw that whatever it was, it had six immense hairy legs, and another pair was obviously what was holding him. Directly above the front two legs were a pair of sharp black pincers that gleamed in the scarce moonlight, and Gabriel had never been more glad that he couldn't get poisoned.

Gabriel hit it several times, hand clenched into a tight fist, but the thing didn't react visibly. It wasn't hurting him, though (at least not yet), so Gabriel resigned himself to being carried.

He was in its clutches for what seemed like ages, and as it carried him deeper Gabriel could see that the ground beneath him was swarming with something, most likely more of the monsters. He craned his neck and saw that they were now in a vast hollow, and with no trees to speak of he saw what had to be the creepiest scene ever.

Spiders. Absolutely everywhere. And not ordinary spiders either, but ones the size of horses and cars. Gabriel realized with a thrill of horror that the thing carrying him must have been a spider as well, and it was at least as tall as one of the smaller oak trees surrounding them. It towered over the other spiders, and as it scuttled towards a huge domed web in the middle of the hollow it dropped him.

Gabriel landed on all fours and rolled with his momentum, coming out on his feet and whipping out his wand threateningly at any spider who looked like it was getting too close for comfort.  They left a space around him, milling around in a circle and more still were coming, blanketing the trees on the edge. The hollow was an arachnaphobe’s nightmare, and even Gabriel was feeling more than a twinge of discomfort. Spiders were not _meant_ to be this big, and he preferred to know the monsters before he encountered so many of them.

The spider who had carried him here was saying something, but it was hard to make out as its pincers clicked with every syllable.

"Aragog," it called, and Gabriel thought it was a nonsense word until another spider emerged in response, this time from the web in the center.It was even bigger, the size of a small elephant at least. Its eyes were milky and clouded, and Gabriel realized with some relief that it must be blind.

"What is it?" The blind spider asked.

"Men," said the first spider, its pincers clicking rapidly.

"Hagrid?" Aragog asked, and Gabriel was definitely going to ask the gamekeeper about this because he was pretty sure that raising humongous spiders in the woods near a school full of children was not okay at all.

"Strangers," replied the first.

"Kill them," said Aragog, almost fretfully. "I was sleeping."

"I wouldn't do that!" Gabriel shouted, trying to keep a lid on his panic. With his Grace the way it was and his magic almost entirely untrained, there was no way he could take on so many of them and come out with his vessel intact. He'd be shredded. And with him locked inside it like this, that did not make for a good outcome. He wouldn’t die, at least. Probably not.

"Why not?" hissed Aragog. "When you come so willingly into our nest..."

"Technically, I was carried," Gabriel snarked. "And I'm a bit important back up at the school. They might miss me, you know! I don't suppose you'd want wizards swarming over your hollow!" He had to shout to make the words reach the giant spider.

There was a pause of silence and Gabriel decided to continue. "And besides!" He yelled up. "I've got questions for you! Why have you been running from the school all year? Is it because of the Chamber of Secrets?"

That set off a wave of clicking around the hollow.

"But that was many years ago," said Aragog fretfully. "They believed I was the monster, that dwells in what they call the Chamber. That's why they made him leave."

"You mean Hagrid?" Gabriel couldn’t imagine Aragog had many visitors.

"Do you know him?"

"Yeah," Gabriel lied through his teeth, hoping that maybe it would gain him some lenience. "So you never attacked anyone?"

"Never," said the giant spider. "Out of respect to Hagrid, I never harmed a human...The body of the girl who was killed was discovered in a bathroom, and I never saw any part of the castle save the cupboard in which I grew up."

"Then what's in the Chamber?" Gabriel mentally cursed that the thing couldn't tell him where it was.

There was another loud outbreak of clicking, accompanied by a rustling sound, as if the spiders were shifting around. They sounded almost angry.

"The thing that lives in the castle," said Aragog, "Is an old creature we spiders fear above all others. When I sensed it in the castle I begged Hagrid to let me go, but he would not hear of it..."

"What is it?"

"We do not speak its name!" Aragog's statement was louder than the others.

Gabriel mentally considered his options. He'd spent enough time here already. "I suppose I'll go, then."

"Go?" Aragog turned away. "No, you will not go."

"I was afraid of that," Gabriel muttered.

"I will not refuse my sons and daughters," the giant spider said, descending into his nest, "Not when fresh meat wanders so willingly into our nest..."

The spiders surged towards him.

Gabriel drew something almost unconsciously and his magic reacted to his needs. He threw his arms out, silver weapon glittering and wand in the other hand, and his inherited magic burst out, knocking back the spiders. Gabriel was on his way out of the hollow before they could react, using one particularly large specimen to make his way to the edge and breaking into a dead sprint.

He heard them rushing after him and shouted out a spell he'd seen in one of the books in the common room. Luckily it worked, and something shrieked behind him.  There was an alarming creak of wood, too, and a tree came crashing down on the path. Gabriel repeated the action hastily, toppling trees to block the spiders and aiming for the spiders themselves, but it was only a little effective, and the horde was relentless.

Gabriel didn't get tired or need a break in his vessel, but that didn't matter. The spiders were larger and could cover more ground, and his core was being depleted with all of these high-powered instinctive curses. He'd taken out at least ten of the big ones but there were three more to replace every one that fell behind and Gabriel was wondering if he shouldn't just climb a tree and wait it out when a hunting horn resounded in the night.

He was picked up for the second time that night but this time whoever was carrying him had human arms, gripping him tightly around the chest as people leaped into the fray, and Gabriel was sure he heard the twang of arrows being fired. The spiders were shrieking and from what Gabriel could hear they were turning back. He was put down and as Gabriel looked up he realized two things.

One, he was surrounded by centaurs.

Two, he had somehow unconsciously drawn his angel blade when running from the spiders.

"What are you doing in the forest?" One of the centaurs asked roughly.

"I was looking for answers," Gabriel replied. "Thanks for stepping in with the spiders."

"It was not for your sake," a different centaur responded. He was tall and stocky, a dark brown color. "The spiders overstepped their bounds."

"Thanks anyway." Gabriel glanced backwards, towards where he thought the school was. "Any chance I get to walk free back to the school?"

"What were you seeking answers to?" A blonde centaur asked.

"Lots of things. Mostly the answer to the monster that's in the school."

There were several ahs at that. "You care so much that you would come into the forest on your own?" asked one of them in astonishment.

"It attacked my friend," Gabriel said coolly. "Besides, I can take care of myself." He raised the angel blade slightly, the silver glinting in the scant moonlight.

The centaurs seemed to concentrate on it, one or two of them glancing up at what parts of the sky were visible. "You," said one of them slowly, "are something unusual.” He was staring at the blade. Evidently, the centaurs could sense that there was something a little strange about it.

Gabriel smiled, and flipped the blade in his hand to put it away. “What gave it away?”

The centaurs began whispering among themselves, while those at the front regarded Gabriel with thoughtful looks. "Firenze will accompany you to the edge of the forest," one of them said at length, the palomino edging forward.

"Thanks," said Gabriel again, and he gave them a two-fingered salute as he followed the pale centaur. Firenze practically glowed, light fur reflecting what little light there was, and thus was easier to follow then, say, the black one might have been.

When they were near enough to the edge of the forest that Gabriel could see out of the trees, he dug his invisibility cloak out, Firenze watching in bemusement. He put a finger over his lips and thanked the centaur once more before draping it over himself and moving quickly towards the school. If he was found being out of the Ravenclaw dorm then this whole night would have gone to waste, because he’d be in inescapable detentions for the rest of his life.

Something occurred to Gabriel as he was edging past the doors. Aragog had said that a girl's body had been found in a bathroom when the Chamber was last opened.

What if she'd never left it?

* * *

 

Trying to sneak into a disused girl's bathroom, much less one right next to the scene of the first attack, proved to be nearly impossible. It had been hard enough trying to think of a way he could corner the redhead who had probably stolen the diary, but now Gabriel found himself well and truly stumped. If only he could use his Grace...but no matter how long he left it to build up, hardly any of his Grace had returned since he'd last checked it.

In addition to that, in his first lesson on Monday, McGonagall informed them all that they would still be having exams, one week from then.

" _Exams?_ " Someone asked disbelievingly.

"The whole point of keeping this school open at this time is for you to receive your education," McGonagall said sharply. "The exams will therefore take place as usual, and I trust you are all revising hard."

It hadn't occurred to anyone, much less Gabriel, to think about exams at a time like this. There was a lot of frantic rushing about in Ravenclaw tower as upper years tried hastily to get their usual study groups together. Even the usual experimental groups disbanded as everyone remembered that they did not take entirely independent-study classes and actually had exams that were not catered to whatever existential question they’d come up with today. Gabriel remembered fondly how frustrated Hermione got at the Ravenclaw’s terrible grades, but his smile faded when thoughts of Hermione reminded him of her current state.

Gabriel, of course, couldn't care less about exams. It didn't matter if he flunked out of the year, since as long as the monster was still around there would most likely not be a Hogwarts to come back to next year. If he did manage to get rid of it, he could always try and fudge the results with his Grace.

That wasn’t the only news, though. Not only had Hagrid  been blamed for opening the chamber of secrets and mysteriously removed from the school in the middle of the night, Dumbledore had been removed from his position as Headmaster at almost the exact same time. It had thrown the school into even bigger chaos, people wondering how they could be safe now that someone regarded as the greatest wizard of their time had been removed from Hogwarts.

Gabriel still thought that if Dumbledore was really the greatest wizard, he should be figuring these things out sooner. Admittedly, Gabriel was a celestial being with millenia of experience, but if he had actually been twelve it would have been sort of pathetic.

Three days before exams, McGonagall announced at breakfast that the Mandrakes were finally ready to be made into the de-Petrification potion. This was greeted by a storm of cheering, and Gabriel felt his heart leap. Even Draco had joined in halfheartedly, to the surprise of the people sitting around him, although Gabriel could see a vaguely pained look on his face.

Gabriel knew that, by tomorrow the whole mystery might solve itself when the Petrified students woke up, but even so he wasn't going to pass up a chance to speak to Myrtle and figure out what was going on anyways. And to his delight the chance came that day, mid-morning when they were being led to their next class by Lockhart.

Lockhart, who had so often falsely reassured them that the danger had passed, seemed convinced that it was thoroughly unnecessary to lead them to their next class. He looked a little more untidy than usual, and Gabriel guessed that he had been up all night patrolling the corridors. No doubt the other teachers had given him no choice in the matter.

It was ridiculously easy to convince him to let the Ravenclaws go off on their own while Lockhart slipped away to do who knew what, and it took Gabriel only seconds to 'accidentally' turn the wrong corner and be on his way to Myrtle's bathroom when...

"Potter! What are you doing?"

McGonagall was marching towards him, mouth pressed into a thin white line. Gabriel hurried to think of a good lie.

"I was-" he actually stuttered and damn it, why was this woman so intimidating? It might have been the fact that she was at least a foot and a half taller than he was at the moment. "I was going to see Hermione."

McGonagall looked at him sharply and Gabriel hurried to continue. "It's just - I haven't seen her in ages, and I thought, er-"

McGonagall was still staring at him and Gabriel wondered whether she was about to yell. But when she spoke, it was with a strangely rough voice.

"Of course," she said tightly, and Gabriel was surprised that it had actually worked. "Of course, I realize that this has been very hard on...I quite understand. Yes, Potter, of course you may visit Miss Granger. Tell Madam Pomfrey that I have given you my permission."

Stunned, Gabriel watched her walk out of sight. He took another step towards the bathroom, and then hesitated. If McGonagall asked about his visit later, and Madam Pomfrey said he hadn’t visited, he would be twice as much in for it from the stern Head of House. Damn. 

...He’d get to see Hermione. Gabriel wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

Madam Pomfrey let him in very reluctantly.

"There's just no point talking to a Petrified person," she muttered, and Gabriel got the feeling he hadn't been meant to overhear. Of course, she was right, and it only made Gabriel depressed to see Hermione perfectly still.

He took a seat next to her with a sigh. "That went well," he muttered. "I suppose you'd have thought of something more clever."

Hermione, of course, did not respond.

"Fat lot of good this is doing," Gabriel spoke again, if only to break the silence which permeated the hospital wing. He looked away from Hermione's face and noticed that her hand was curled around something.

Curious, he looked closer. There was a scrunched-up bit of paper in her hand.Glancing around for Madam Pomfrey, Gabriel struggled to get it out without tearing the paper - Hermione's hand, obviously, couldn't move out of the way for him. Eventually, he managed to pull out the last bit and smooth it out. It looked like it had been torn from a very old library book.

_Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters which roam our lands, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as King of the Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it._

Beneath this passage, in a single scrawl, Hermione had written _Pipes_.

"Oh," Gabriel breathed. "Oh, this is brilliant!" The monster in the Chamber was a Basilisk! And it had been getting around in the pipes - that was why he had kept hearing it from inside the walls! "You brilliant girl!"

Gabriel's gaze darted around. None of the people in here were dead - because none of them had looked straight at it! The Gryffindor kid must have seen it through his camera, and the Hufflepuff through the ghost, and of course Nick couldn't die again. Hermione and the Ravenclaw prefect had been found near the library with a mirror - Hermione must have seen the girl and warned her to check around corners with one first. But what about the cat?

Of course, Myrtle's bathroom. The hall had been flooded on Halloween as well! The cat must have seen the reflection!

"Hermione, I could kiss you right now."

But where was the entrance? Gabriel stood up and almost started pacing when something occurred to him. Where was one place the plumbing was close to the surface? Where was one place he knew someone had died in a room like that?

"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," he whispered.

Gabriel ran out of the hospital wing. He was heading straight for the bathroom, but before he could get there, a magically magnified voice echoed through the corridor.

"All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please."

What had happened now? Another attack?

Curiosity overpowering him, Gabriel redirected his steps to the staff room, hurriedly pulling the invisibility cloak out of his pocket and over himself. He arrived just before the other teachers did, and hid out of the way in a wardrobe full of musty robes. It wouldn't do for anyone to bump into him.

As the teachers filed in, some looked puzzled, while others looked downright scared. McGonagall arrived last, and Gabriel cautiously closed the wardrobe door. If anyone was going to spot him, it would be her.

"It has happened," she told the silent staff room. "A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the chamber itself."

There were various reactions of shock and horror. Gabriel leaned closer to hear, pressing his ear against the door and using one hand to hold it shut. Who had been taken?

"How can you be sure?" Someone asked.

"The heir of Slytherin," said McGonagall heavily, "Left another note. Right underneath the first. 'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever'."

Someone burst into tears.

"Who is it?" Professor Sprout asked, sounding like she barely dared to know.

"Ginny Weasley."

Weasley?

Wasn't that the name of the girl who had stolen the diary?

Gabriel was seized by horror. If the diary had been leeching off of her, there was only too large a possibility that it could have taken control for any period of time.

Someone had just begun to speak when the door of the staff room burst open. Gabriel could hear the hinges protest at the late professor’s exuberant entrance.

"So sorry," said the voice of Lockhart. "I must have dozed off! What have I missed?"

"Just the man," said a sneering voice that had to be Snape. "The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your time has come at last."

"That's right, Gilderoy," someone else chipped in after Lockhart remained silent. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the Chamber of secrets is?"

"I - well, I-" Lockhart sputtered.

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" Flitwick piped up.

"Did I? I-I don't quite recall..."

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a chance at the monster before Hagrid was arrested," Snape said. "Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?"

Lockhart was silent for some time, then began stuttering out excuses.

"We'll leave it to you then, Gilderoy," said McGonagall, speaking over him. "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last."

"V-very well," said Lockhart after a long silence. "I'll - I'll be in my office, getting - getting ready."

And he left.

So did Gabriel, who was honestly itching for some decent Trickster action.

"Oi!" he called, and Lockhart turned around in the middle of the hallway. "Where are you going in such a hurry, professor?" Lockhart didn't seem to notice the sarcasm Gabriel injected into the last word.

"Oh, hello, Harry," said the man quickly. "Urgent call, really...got to go..."

"And what about the Chamber? You know," Gabriel looked up at him innocently. "Saving Ginny Weasley and all."

Lockhart was staring at him incredulously. "How did you-"

"Never mind that." Gabriel was smiling again. "It seems to be your lucky day, Professor. I know exactly where to go."

* * *

 

Lockhart, as it turned out, had to be guided at wandpoint to Myrtle's bathroom. He looked weak-chinned and not at all like he usually did, even dressed in eye-wateringly neon green robes.

"What are you doing here?" Myrtle asked warily as Gabriel poked Lockhart in.

"To ask how you died," Gabriel said bluntly. "It was a giant snake, wasn't it?"

"I don't know about a snake," Myrtle said. She was looking as though she had never been asked a more interesting question. "All I know is that Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses again, and I-"

"Can you skip to the bit where you actually died?" Gabriel normally would’ve let her talk, but- “I don’t have a whole lot of time on my hands, here.”

Myrtle looked put out. "I just remember a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away...I came back though."

"I can see that." Gabriel glanced around. "Where were the eyes?"

"Over there," answered Myrtle, pointing to the sink nearest Gabriel.

He shuffled over, keeping his wand trained on Lockhart, and eyed the sink carefully. One one of the taps, there was a scratched design that looked vaguely like a snake, but maybe Gabriel was just at the wrong angle.

"That tap's never worked," said Myrtle cheerfully as Gabriel reached out to twist it. He examined the snake carefully. It wasn’t nearly as realistic as the one guarding the Slytherin common room; it was barely more than scratchy graffiti. But the same method had to work...

"Open up," Gabriel said. Both Lockhart and the ghost looked at him, puzzled.

"This never works the first time," Gabriel muttered, then cleared his throat and concentrated hard on the snake.

" _Open up_." It came out as a rasping, contorted hiss. Lockhart jumped violently, and even Myrtle gave a little start. The sink began to drop out of view into the ground, revealing the entrance to a huge, filthy pipe.

"Well!" Lockhart cleared his throat. "I don't think you really need me now you've figured it out-"

"Actually, I think you're going before me." Gabriel aimed his wand at Lockhart. "Adults first, Professor. After all, you’re so much more capable." He hoped Lockhart noticed the sarcasm that time.

Lockhart swallowed nervously and peered over the edge of the pipe. Gabriel pushed him in and listened as the man's screams faded away.

"Fairly deep then," he mused. "Oh, hell." And he jumped in himself.

* * *

 

The bottom was just as dirty as the slide, but Gabriel had no time to wrinkle his nose at the tiny rodent skeletons littering the ground. Lockhart was white as a ghost, standing a few feet away from the pipe. He was actually pale enough that Gabriel could make him out with some ease, considering the tunnel was black as night. They were probably far underground by now.

"Lumos!" The tip of Gabriel's wand lit and sent their shadows racing up the walls to loom like huge beasts. Gabriel was too engaged in going forwards to make sure Lockhart was somewhere he could see him.

There was something huge and curved lying across the tunnel in front of him. Gabriel paused, hoping that perhaps it was asleep, but the wandlight that was accidentally sent skittering across it revealed that it wasn't a snake, but a snakeskin.

"Ho-ly shit." Gabriel whistled. It was enormous, a venomous green color and at least sixty feet long. The top if it, where the skin hadn't been flattened, was well above Gabriel's head. There was a sudden movement behind Gabriel; Lockhart, upon following him and seeing it, had collapsed to his knees.

"Get up," Gabriel said sharply. Lockhart didn't move. Gabriel moved closer, intending to maybe use a Stinging Hex when Lockhart surged upwards and launched himself at Gabriel.

Gabriel fell over backwards in pure surprise and felt his wand being wrestled out of his hand. Lockhart stood up panting with the stolen wand and Gabriel brought himself to his feet irritably.

Lockhart was grinning brightly again.

"The adventure ends here, Harry!" he said. Gabriel stared in disbelief. "I shall take a bit of the skin up to the school and tell them that I was too late to save the girl...and you, of course, tried to follow me and tragically lost your mind at the sight of her mangled body. Say goodbye to your memories! _Obliviate!_ "

The white light arced towards Gabriel off of his own wand. Gabriel swatted it away and the rebound hit an astonished Lockhart, throwing him to the ground. Gabriel stomped over.

"Give me that," he snapped, snatching his wand back. Lockhart blinked and looked around. Gabriel hit him sharply on the forehead and Lockhart slumped over again, out cold.

"That's him taken care of," Gabriel muttered, turning around and relighting his wand. If Lockhart was willing to do that and take the credit, Gabriel wondered about the integrity of all his other adventures.

Gabriel made his way past the empty snakeskin, alert for any sort of movement in the darkness. The tunnel twisted and turned and finally around one bend Gabriel came across a solid wall, upon which was carved two serpents winding around each other. They looked eerily alive, emerald eyes glinting in the darkness.

" _Open_ ," Gabriel told them, and it actually worked the first time for a change. The two snakes parted as the wall cracked open and Gabriel strode through the doorway.

The hall he entered was huge, stone pillars carved with yet more snakes and reaching up to support a roof cloaked in darkness. In the odd, green-tinted gloom which filled the chamber, they cast long black shadows.

There was a statue of a man at one end, but everything but his face was underwater. Two more man-made rivers ran on either side of the path in front of Gabriel, and the statue combined with the fact that it was nearly black made him think that it was much deeper than it looked.

A small, black, red-haired figure was lying on the stone ground in front of the pool which surrounded the statue.

"Shit. Shitshitshit." Gabriel lengthened his pace until he was running, skidding slightly on the wet ground and dropping down next to the figure. It was undoubtedly Ginny Weasley, and Gabriel had to resort to putting his ear to her chest after both her wrist and her neck failed to easily yield a pulse. There was one, but it was faint and thready, and as Gabriel sat back up with a sigh of relief he tried to ignore the fact that she was absolutely freezing cold. He refused to look at her soul - it would only depress him, and if it had gone so far that she was unconscious-

"She won't wake."

Gabriel spun around from where he was crouched, raising into a half-standing position. A black haired boy was leaning against one of the pillars closest to Gabriel, and he was strangely misty around the edges, as if Gabriel were looking at him through a load of fog.

"I assume you're Tom Riddle, then," Gabriel said calmly. He had already noticed the diary thrown to one side near where Ginny was lying.

The boy's eyes narrowed as he stood up straight. "Funny," he said. "You know my name, but I don't recall learning yours."

"I didn't say," replied Gabriel. "Now how about we take this somewhere you can't have your Basilisk do the dirty work for you, eh?" He nodded towards Ginny. "Or her, for that matter. What's the matter, got to possess kids to get anything done?"

"It was necessary," Riddle said coolly. "She should have been more wary...little Ginny poured her heart and soul into writing to me...how she'd had to come to Hogwarts with second-hand robes, how she thought-"

"Shut up," said Gabriel sharply, standing up fully. "Now you might have been bad enough on your own, but bringing kids into it? She's eleven, dipshit. Leave her alone."

"You speak as though you weren't a child."

"I'm not." Gabriel gave Riddle a sharklike grin. "Not human, remember me now?"

Riddle's eyes widened. "You."

"Me," Gabriel agreed. "Now I'm not here to hear about your evil plot or anything, Tom. In fact, I'm mostly here to stop this soul crap you've got going on."

"And how will you do that when you are too busy fighting to save little Ginny?" Riddle's eyes flicked up to the statue, and he opened his mouth to speak, but an echoing, birdlike call interrupted him. Both he and Gabriel wheeled around to see where it had come from.

Something golden was flying down the tunnel, and as it drew closer Gabriel saw that it was some sort of strange bird, one with long feathers and scarlet plumage that was tipped with a yellow so bright it looked golden. As it flew overhead it dropped something at Gabriel's feet, which unrolled to reveal the Sorting Hat.

"This is what the headmaster sends his champion?" Riddle asked mockingly as Gabriel stared in disbelief at the Hat. The headmaster? What did Dumbledore have to do with this? "A songbird and an old hat? What good will that do you?"

"I figure a phoenix would be pretty handy," Gabriel muttered, his eyes on the bird as it circled. He didn’t know they had phoenixes here. What was one doing at Hogwarts?

Riddle glanced up, seemingly realizing the same thing. "Ah," he muttered. "But I doubt it will be much use against the basilisk." He turned again to the statue and spoke, this time with a hissing sibilance that told Gabriel he was using Parseltongue. "Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four."

A flick of Gabriel's fingers sent Ginny to the side and out of the way as he turned around. The mouth of the statue was opening, and as Gabriel took a few steps backward something moved within it.

The basilisk piled itself onto the stone floor, parts of its body going underwater as it snaked out of the pool. Its eyes were closed, and it was turning its head from side to side as if looking - or rather smelling - for someone.

Gabriel looked over at Ginny to make sure she was out of the way and saw something silver glittering inside the Hat. Without wondering why he was doing so Gabriel grabbed for whatever it was and drew a long, silver broadsword from the Hat. It was shining as though it had been freshly polished, and looked as sharp as anything. Gripping the long hilt tightly, Gabriel faced the giant snake again and found it about three inches from his face.

"Kill him," Riddle hissed, and the basilisk's eyes snapped open. They were indeed a bright, lamplike yellow like Myrtle had said, with large slitted pupils.

"You'll have to do better than that," Gabriel told the snake, shaking off the temporary stiffness in his vessel, and leaped up, shoving the broadsword into one of its eyes and using it as a springboard to get onto the snake's head. The basilisk shrieked, a strange sound coming from the mouth of a snake. The phoenix came swooping down and attacked the other eye as the basilisk thrashed around, making Gabriel hold on tightly to the embedded sword to keep himself on its head and out of the way.

Blinded, the basilisk sniffed around for him while Gabriel held himself onto its head, looking for a weak spot. The best place to go would be the head, if he could get past the scales, and he was preparing to strike when a blast of force knocked him back onto the ground.

Swearing, Gabriel righted himself. He'd left the broadsword in the basilisk's eye on accident, and a few feet away a murderous-looking Riddle was holding his wand, aiming it straight at Gabriel.

"What is it with people stealing my wand today?" Gabriel complained as he jumped out of the way of the basilisk. It overshot and nearly plummeted into the pool, whipping around and splashing water everywhere as it tried to get back to Gabriel. Gabriel, in a feat that would have gotten him killed had he actually been human, ran straight at it and grabbed the sword again, pulling it out of the now thoroughly-ruined eye.

The basilisk screamed again, and Riddle yelled in rage. The snake opened its mouth as though intending to eat Gabriel whole but Gabriel saw a chance and took it.

Gabriel shoved the sword up through the roof of its mouth in one fluid movement. He jumped away as the snake screeched and thrashed, jerky movements splashing water in huge arcs. After only a few seconds, it fell to the ground, jerked once, twice, and then stilled.

Absentmindedly, Gabriel yanked out the fang that had gotten stuck in his arm and winced at the sensation of poison. It wasn't deadly, but it felt like being filled with pins and needles.

Riddle was watching the dead basilisk in horror, Gabriel's wand long forgotten by his side. Gabriel practically strolled over to where the diary was and was already holding it before Riddle reacted.

"Stop!" He shouted as Gabriel held the fang over the diary. Hopefully basilisk venom would be enough to get rid of the thing.

"What do you want?" Gabriel asked, not putting the fang down. He wasn’t about to lose his only leverage.

"I don't want anything from you!"

"Really?" said Gabriel idly. "Because I do think you have some information I want."

He saw how Riddle paused, calculating, a Slytherin in full. "What kind of information?" He asked warily.

"Nothing important," replied Gabriel. "Just...the location of Ravenclaw's diadem."

''And why would I know where that is?"

"I spoke to the grey lady, you know." Gabriel lowered the fang until it was almost touching the diary. "Any last words, then?"

"Wait, no!" Riddle shouted desperately. “It’s still in the castle! I never had the chance to take it!”

Gabriel laughed aloud. If his Horn was in the castle, he’d know it. And the Ravenclaw ghost had left it in  _Albania._ “You’re lying,” he said, and plunged the fang into the diary.

Ink went everywhere. It spurted up and dripped down Gabriel's now even dirtier robes, pooling on the floor. Riddle gave a blood-curdling scream and vanished, as if he'd been torn into tiny pieces in the space of a second.

There was silence in the chamber.

Gabriel shoved the ruined diary, still impaled on the fang, in his pocket and walked over to where Ginny was now propped up against one of the pillars. She was much warmer and her pulse was better, and she appeared to be waking up. Gabriel put two fingers to her forehead to keep her asleep - no need for her to wake up and panic at the sight of a filthy rescuer, a really creepy chamber, and a huge-ass dead snake.

The sword he tucked into his belt, since no sheath had been provided. Gabriel fetched his wand from where Riddle had dropped it, then picked up the Sorting Hat and placed it on Ginny's head for convenience, since he certainly wasn't going to wear it, and then hoisted her up. She was light enough to carry fairly easily, and as Gabriel made his way past the basilisk's corpse Ginny shifted in her sleep, putting her arms around his neck. He rolled his eyes and kept going.

The phoenix followed him out as he walked through the tunnel again, providing a strangely comforting light. Lockhart was still where Gabriel had left him, and Gabriel kicked him in the shins to wake the man up since his hands were full. He stirred and then jolted awake with a sputter, and looked up at Gabriel curiously.

"Hello," he said. "Who are you?"

"Bloody hell," Gabriel muttered. "You've forgotten everything."

The phoenix warbled and landed in front of Gabriel, seemingly offering one of its tail feathers. Gabriel regarded it carefully.

"You want me to grab your tail?" Something similar to a yes came out. "Alright. You-" He directed the last word to Lockhart. "Grab the bird's tail." As Lockhart did so Gabriel shifted Ginny around so he could free one of his hands and grasped the feathers.

The phoenix took off and lifted all of them seemingly effortlessly, flying back up the winding pipe and they were back in the bathroom. Gabriel glanced down at himself and Ginny and decided that cleaning himself off would have to wait, as it would be suspicious if his robes weren't dirty.

"Oh, you're back." said Myrtle. "And you survived." She sounded almost disappointed.

"Yeah," Gabriel muttered as the phoenix disappeared in a flash of flames. "That's me. The survivor." He sighed mentally and wondered how he was going to explain all of this.

Luckily everyone was still in their dorms, or it would have taken even longer to get up to McGonagall's office, since they would have all stopped to stare. Lockhart trailed behind him, apparently unsure of where he was actually going.

When he got to the door, Gabriel kicked it to get the attention of anyone who might be inside.After a moment, it swung open.

Gabriel got a brief look at the people inside (since when had Dumbledore come back?) before there was a shriek and a redheaded woman threw herself on Gabriel, prying Ginny from his hold and shaking her awake. Ginny startled awake, took one look at the woman who must have been her mother, and clutched at her, looking to be near tears.

Dumbledore, who was sitting behind the desk, was gazing at Gabriel in astonishment while McGonagall, who appeared to be supporting herself on the fireplace, was taking large, steadying breaths. The phoenix was sitting on the edge of the desk, and Lockhart had edged into the office behind Gabriel, as if slightly unsure whether he should be there.

Gabriel suddenly found himself being trapped in a tight hug as well. Ginny's mother was talking rapidly in his ear.

"You saved her! You _saved_ her! How did you do it?"

"I think that's a question we should all like answered," said Dumbledore, recovering his 'friendly grandfather look. "Would you like a chair, Harry?"

"Sure," said Gabriel, who had yet to recover from the uncomfortable pins and needles feeling in his limbs. He sat down, looked around and all the expectant faces, and began talking.

It took several hours and a lot of creative bullshitting for the entire story to get out and sound like something that could have been reasonably accomplished by someone who was not an archangel. Maybe reasonable wasn't the right word. 'Within the realm of very lucky possibility' would have been better. McGonagall startled when Gabriel mentioned offhandedly his skill at Parseltongue, and Dumbledore frowned in a disapproving way at the tale of his encounter with the spiders in the forest, and Ginny’s mother gasped more than once. Ginny herself stayed still and quiet through the whole thing, still tearfully holding onto her mother and gazing at Gabriel with huge eyes.

"Well," Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling by the time Gabriel had finished. "I should think that you have been incredibly brave and perhaps more than a bit lucky, mister Potter. I am surprised, though, at the sword which you have with you."

"What about it?" Gabriel asked, looking down. It was a pretty impressive sword, sure, but he didn’t see anything surprising about it other than the fact that they saw a twelve year old holding it.

"Perhaps you should take a closer look at the blade," Dumbledore suggested. Gabriel did so, pulling it out carefully and examining the blade. He almost hit something.

_You've got to be joking._

The name 'GRYFFINDOR' had been engraved along the length of the blade.

"Only those who are worthy can pull the sword from the Hat," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "But now is not the time for discussing legends! I believe Miss Weasley would benefit from a trip to the Hospital wing, and perhaps a cup of hot cocoa. You were not injured, were you, Harry?"

"I'm fine, mostly." Gabriel replied. "A little tired. A cleaning spell wouldn't go wrong though."

McGonagall looked torn between lecturing Gabriel and congratulating him, but she raised her wand and cleaned off his robes anyway. Gabriel glanced down at the now much drier material. "Thanks."

"For you, Mister Potter," Dumbledore said, "I think, perhaps, two hundred points to Ravenclaw-" Gabriel looked at him in shock. "-And an award for special services to the school. You did, of course, splinter many school rules into pieces, but I think on this occasion it can be excused."

"Thanks," Gabriel said again. "Oh, and before I forget-" He dug into his pocket and tossed the diary onto the table. "You might want to take care of that. I've no idea what it is-" A blatant lie. "-But it seems dangerous. Could I go back up to my dorm?"

"Of course," said McGonagall faintly. "I think that would be best...are you sure you don't need to go to the Hospital wing?"

"I'm sure," said Gabriel as he closed the door behind him. He faintly heard Lockhart ask something, and wondered what they were going to do with the man now that he remembered nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Second year done - mostly. And a super long chapter for you guys! A bit of a heads up - I'm bringing in someone new next chapter! And no, it's not Sirius Black, who is going to show up anyway once we get the Prisoner of Azkaban on the road. 
> 
> Comment, please! I want to see who you think it is.


	19. In Which a Sibling Appears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short chapter, I know, but after the last few I think I'm entitled to a break. And hey, I can't tell if you guys were excited about the mystery character, but you're about to be!
> 
> And about the shortness, again, there's not much left of second year/Chamber of Secrets and I didn't want to go into Prisoner of Azkaban already. That's next chapter - but the end's enough to make up for the length.

The feast which occurred that night was singular for a lot of reasons. There was the fact that before it started the entire Weasley family (all four of the boys currently at Hogwarts) had piled on him just outside the door in a huge mess of them all trying to thank him at once for saving their sister. Second, everyone was in their pajamas, as it was nearly eleven at night and they had all been asleep. The entire hall was in a festive mood, even though the reason for the feast had never been officially announced.

The best bit was probably when the doors banged open and all the people who had been Petrified came streaming into the hall to loud cheers from everyone, even some of the Slytherins. Hermione had thrown herself at Michael and Gabriel, who hugged back just as hard. Gabriel had been hard-pressed to let her go. Hagrid, the gamekeeper who had been arrested, turned up at three thirty in the morning and was beaming so widely that he could barely eat.

Ravenclaw had been put in the lead for the House cup and people kept coming over to ask Gabriel how he'd won them and if he'd really rescued Ginny Weasley. Gabriel redirected all of them and concentrated on the feast, telling Michael and Hermione that he'd explain later when they didn't have an audience.

McGonagall stood up near the end to announce that exams had been cancelled as a school treat ("Oh no!" said Hermione, and Gabriel started laughing so hard Michael began to look worried) and Dumbledore announced later that, as Lockhart had to go and get his memory back, he would not be returning next year to teach Defense class. This was also greeted with cheers even more deafening, and someone standing outside the Great Hall might have wondered if an explosion had gone off inside.

The rest of June passed in a heat haze. Apparently, Draco's father had been kicked off the school board for unknown reasons, which meant that all Gabriel saw of him was Draco moping around various parts of the school. All Defense classes had been cancelled, since Lockhart was gone, and these periods were now spent spread out by the lake on the lawn. It was during one of these times that Gabriel fully explained what had happened in the Chamber (the made-up version, however much he disliked the necessity) and Hermione and Michael both looked like they were about to hit him.

"And you didn't think to ask for help?" Michael said, slightly angrily. "I could have come too and helped!"

"Er-" Gabriel was a bit taken aback. "I supposed I didn't want to drag you into all that."

"Well." Michael didn't seem satisfied with the explanation. "Next time you go on some crazy adventure, we're coming with you, alright?"

"...Sure." Gabriel hesitated before saying it, but left his fingers uncrossed.

In what seemed like no time it everyone was packing up their things and getting ready to board the Hogwarts express back to King's Cross and preparing for the summer. Michael spent half of the ride telling everyone about the trip ne was going to take to Ireland that summer. They had several visitors - the Weasleys all piled in at one point, which was luckily after Draco ducked in to tell them he was glad Hogwarts hadn't been closed. It wasn't a 'sorry you were Petrified' or even a 'too bad about the giant basilisk', but it was closer than Draco had been last year to actually being nice to Hermione.

Gabriel thought the compartment had to have magically stretched itself, to fit the twins Fred and George, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Michael, and himself. There were a lot of introductions and the twins kept speaking over each other and even Gabriel found it slightly difficult to tell them apart when they were being intentionally confusing, mostly because looking at their souls would have been cheating.

The oldest brother, who was apparently named Percy, was nowhere to be seen, but according to the others that was normal. Given the twin’s ludicrous tales about him, Gabriel figured there was probably no great loss there.

Gabriel was just wondering when he'd become such a fast friend of theirs. The three boys acted like they'd known him for years - Ron maybe less so, but he was no less enthusiastic. He and Michael were in the middle of an intense debate about Quidditch, which Hermione was watching with some amusement from her seat next to Ginny, who kept glancing over at Gabriel, who was sitting on Hermione's other side.

There was an Exploding Snap tournament which Hermione begged off of and which lasted until they were nearly to London, resulting in some burned fingertips and several sooty faces. Ginny waved goodbye frantically as they got off the train, the Weasleys heading for other parts of the station while Gabriel and Hermione walked back into the Muggle world.

Hermione sped off to talk to her parents and Gabriel made his way outside, finding a bench to sit down on and wondering if he really wanted to put in the effort of taking the bus and then walking back to Privet Drive and spend another summer with the Dursleys. He could just get a room somewhere, right? Gabriel thought he looked old enough to pass for at least a small fourteen, which could definitely get him into the Leaky Cauldron. Of course, that would mean he'd have to spend his entire summer in the magical world, which was full of people who knew him on sight and might stalk him for autographs.

Gabriel was pondering the pros and cons of finding someplace in Muggle London when someone spoke incredulously from just in front of him.

"Oh, I don't believe this!"

Gabriel looked up sharply and his mouth almost dropped open.

"This is too good," the angel said gleefully. "Absolutely hilarious! Look at you! You're miniature!"

"Balthazar, what the fuck are you doing here?"

* * *

 

"I have to do what?"

"Technically I need someone to take care of me-"

"I can see that."

"Don't make fun of me, you dick. Anyway I'm not spending another minute with the people I'm with now, laws be damned."

"So you're asking me to-"

"Don't make me say it."

"Alright, but it's not like I have a house or anything."

"You can zap one up, can't you? Trick a realtor into thinking they've sold the place to you."

"And what about you?"

"Contrary to my vessel, I can take care of myself, Balthazar. You can still have your parties and drink yourself stupid. I might join in."

"You can't join in, you're a minor!"

"Don't laugh at me!"

"What have you even been doing this whole time? I thought you were dead."

"Please. You think I'd let myself be killed that easily?"

"Lucifer's gone, you know."

"Yeah, I'm the one who gave the Winchesters their clue."

"On that note, really? 'Dying' defending them?"

"Hey, that was all for Kali."

"That's not much better, Gabriel."

"Shows what you know. That woman was amazing."

"I don't need to hear that."

"Shouldn't have asked. Are you going to help me out or not?"

Sigh. "Fine. I'll find a place somewhere and get everything settled."

"Excellent."

"And as a side note, what the hell is in that trunk?"

"Long story. House first. And nothing too small."

"Gabriel. You underestimate me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be honest. None of you were expecting him.
> 
> Comment, please!


	20. Sirius Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIRD YEAR ALRIGHT SIRIUS BLACK REMUS LUPIN AKA WOLFY WEREWOLF MC WEREWOLFYPANTS
> 
> Haha, couldn't resist. He's not in this chapter, but we're getting there. I hope you all are looking forward to this as much as I am! I imagine Gabriel and Balthazar would get on well. Like, too well. Especially if Gabriel was the proper age.

Balthazar had come through with admirable speed on his part of the agreement, especially since Gabriel assured him that it would only be for over the summer. He'd found a glamorous house out in the London suburbs, not that the two of them would they settle for anything less, and promptly tricked the dealer into thinking she'd sold it to them and been paid already while Gabriel waited out of the way.

They'd been living there for only two months and it was better than the Dursleys in perhaps every way, except for Balthazar's parties, and those were only bad because Gabriel had been forbidden from attending. He'd pointed out that he was at least half a millenia older than Balthazar, and Balthazar had shot back that his vessel was still only thirteen and he wasn't going to get laid like that. Gabriel had then asked Balthazar what he thought of Gabriel hiding all the liquor in the house. Balthazar had just snubbed him and Gabriel made good on his promise to get rid of it all.

The problem of living with his brother was that his brother actually had Grace to spare.Not the Gabriel didn't, but his didn't come back nearly as fast. Balthazar could snap up some wine and have the energy back in a few hours, while Gabriel (who was an archangel and should by all rights have been more powerful than someone who was only a seraph), if he did the same, would have to wait at least a month before it came back. The rate had improved, but not by much.

Balthazar also neglected to explain how he had ended up in this universe in the first place, muttering some excuse about magical experiments. In return, Gabriel withheld all but the barest details about what he was doing there, although the boarding school and child vessel alone was enough to crack Balthazar up. He sobered quickly when Gabriel informed him about the bit where Gabriel was trapped in his vessel. Balthazar was no Castiel, but he had some knowledge of magical rituals - he promised to think on it and try to work something out.

After two failed attempts and three mildly embarrassing incidents which they both swore the other to secrecy about, Gabriel told him to leave it alone. Magic from their home universe went wonky here, trying to counter magic which was ‘at home’ metaphysically speaking. Gabriel would just go back to sneaking into the library and trying to find a counter.

July was quickly drawing to a close and Gabriel was, reluctantly, sitting in his room doing homework. He'd done most of it already, hoping to get it out of the way, and all that was left was a long, boring essay on the history of witch-hunts. Gabriel didn't understand why the teachers were so fond of giving summer homework. It seemed entirely pointless to him, and especially so now that he had to do it.

Hermione had written plenty of letters, and as a bonus nobody had intercepted them. Her family was apparently traveling as well, since the last one had been written from France. She'd sent him a miniature model of the Arc de Triomphe for his birthday, or rather Harry’s. Gabriel barely remembered his vessel’s birthday, and couldn’t recall telling her about it either, but he was glad for the gesture.

Michael had also sent letters, including moving pictures of nem and nir mother in various places in Ireland, which Gabriel stuck inside the cover of one of his books. He'd enjoyed the letters, thinking that Michael and Hermione had certainly had more exciting summers than he'd had. Mostly it was wandering around the house, bored out of his mind, while Balthazar spent his time out at some club until well into the morning.

There had been a report on the news one day, while Balthazar had been flicking through the channels, on some sort of armed robber who had escaped from prison. Gabriel wouldn't have paid it any mind if Hermione hadn't mentioned the man as well, saying that he was actually a magical criminal who had killed several Muggles and was the only prisoner to ever escape from someplace called Azkaban. Gabriel had mentioned this to Balthazar, who seemed completely disinterested and continued lounging about.

His Hogwarts letter had come the morning of August first, and Balthazar had nearly struck the owl out of the sky in reflexive annoyance before Gabriel reminded him that that was how wizards sent letters. Balthazar spent the rest of the afternoon laughing as Gabriel was forced to get him to sign a permission slip, of all things. Gabriel dumped a bottle of wine over his brother in retaliation, and Balthazar did eventually sign it in swooping cursive.

Plans to meet his friends in Diagon Alley were still tentative when Gabriel arrived there near the end of August, Balthazar gone off to who knew where until the next summer. He'd be staying at the Leaky Cauldron until September like he did every year, and Tom the bartender didn't even look surprised to see him.

"Thought you'd show up eventually," he said leisurely. "Your room's all ready for you."

Slightly surprised by the fact that he'd been expected, Gabriel nodded in thanks and had dumped his things in the room, beelining out to the Alley  to see if anyone he knew was there yet. There was a disappointing dearth of Hogwarts students, but the ice cream parlor was open. Gabriel wasted no time in getting himself a treat, and decided to wander until he saw someone he recognized.

When he did finally find someone, it was Hermione, with her arms clamped around a rather ugly ginger cat. She was browner than usual, probably from her time on French beaches, and her hair had been left loose to poof around her head. It would have made her look frazzled, if not for the huge smile that graced her face when she saw him.

"What on earth is that?" Gabriel asked, regarding the cat. It regarded him back with equal judgement and some bad temperament to boot.

"'It' is Crookshanks," Hermione said huffily, hoisting him higher. "Mum and dad said I could get a pet."

"That's not a pet, it's practically a creature."

"Don't be so rude!"

"It looks like it ran face-first into a brick wall."

"He," Hermione snapped, and Gabriel realized that he may have gone a bit too far. A summer with Balthazar had done nothing for his brain-to-mouth filter. "And he's half kneazle, for your information."

"Half what?"

Hermione went on to explain the intricacies of magical species as Gabriel began walking with her down the alley. She still had a tight hold on Crookshanks, who was allowing himself to be carried quite placidly.

"I've still got to get all my books," Hermione said. "I've got some of them already, of course, and I ran into Ron when I was getting mine. We had both signed up for Care of Magical Creatures, the assistant nearly cried when we told him we wanted two of the course books."

"You mean the sentient ones in the window?"

"Yes." Hermione seemed amused by his description. "You're not taking it though, right?"

"Nah. I signed up for Ancient Runes and Divination." Ancient Runes, at least, would be rather easy, seeing as Gabriel could probably speak all the languages already. "And speaking of courses, did you seriously go ahead and sign up for all of them?"

"I did," said Hermione in a dignified manner. "And it's already been cleared with Professor McGonagall, so you can't go telling me that it's impossible."

"You're going to have ten hours of homework a night, you realize.""

You're exaggerating, Harry."

They ended up sitting at Fortescue's together, waiting to see if Michael would come by. Several people passed that they did know, but usually only vaguely, though Ron Weasley waved as he passed.Michael didn't show up until later, a bag stuffed full of packages by nir side. Apparently ne'd been forced to do all nir shopping first before ne went off looking for them.

"Well, it's a good thing you showed up before Harry tried to order any more ice cream," said Hermione, casting a glance at Gabriel.

"I refuse to regret enjoying it," said Gabriel, licking his spoon. "You're just biased because of your parents."

"Too many sweets are bad for you, Harry.""And so I'll regret it when I'm older,” Gabriel lied with a bright grin. Hermione just rolled her eyes and turned back to Michael. "So how was your holiday?"

"Great," Michael said eagerly, drawing up a chair. "We went to see this place called the Giant's Causeway, it was brilliant. There weren't any actual giants, of course, the Muggles just call it that."

"I think I've heard of it," said Gabriel, ninety percent sure he’d visited the place before. Something to do with Cuhulain? Gabriel had never associated much with that particular god, but they’d run in some of the same circles, being so close to each other.

"It was awesome," Michael enthused, and went on to wax poetic about how cool Ireland had been. Hermione waited patiently before she burst out all the details of her own trip, far more factually laden than Michael’s tales.

"I had to rewrite my entire History of Magic essay to include some of it," she said, stroking Crookshanks. "I hope Professor Binns doesn't mind, it's two whole rolls of parchment more than he asked for."

Michael muttered something under nir breath which made Gabriel snort, and Hermione look at them both severely. "And what about you, Harry?" she asked. "I know you probably didn't go anywhere over the summer, but-"

"I got a new guardian," Gabriel said idly, stirring the melted ice cream in his dish. Both of his friends did double-takes at that.

"You what?" asked Michael, as though ne thought ne'd misheard.

"I got away from my relatives," Gabriel elaborated. "Apparently there's someone else who could have had custody and petitioned for it, some uncle on L-" He caught himself before he said Lily Potter. "-My mum's side. He's cool."

"And he got custody just like that?"

"The Dursleys were perfectly willing to let him. I doubt there was any love lost," Gabriel said sarcastically. He barely knew what had happened with the Dursleys, having forced Balthazar to sort it out, but he was sure they’d been thrilled at the chance to be rid of him.

"So what's your uncle like?" Hermione was leaning forward and looked genuinely interested. Gabriel had to quickly think of something about Balthazar that wouldn't make him sound like a poor guardian. "He's got this big house out in London. Not too close to the city."

"That sounds nice." Hermione looked unsure what to think of the sudden news. "Do you like it with him? I mean, he’s all right, isn’t he?"

Gabriel mentally compared Balthazar to the Dursleys. "It's much better." Hermione and Michael exchanged a quick, meaningful look - maybe Gabriel had sounded too sincere about that. He’d never shared much about the Dursleys, but evidently the two of them had drawn their own conclusions.

When they returned to the Leaky Cauldron, it was to find that Michael’s and Hermione's parents had somehow been drawn into a conversation with the Weasleys, and they were all sitting together at one long table to the back of the pub. The table of redheads was just as enthusiastic as they had been at the end of the last school year, and the pair of twins were particularly exuberant with saying hello in an overdone and obviously joking manner. Their mother, however, did not seem nearly as pleased with their antics.

"How are you, dear?" She said graciously to Gabriel, as they all sat down. It was a bit crowded, with thirteen of them (counting the parents) stuffed around two tables pushed together.

"Fine." Gabriel managed to squeeze himself into the only empty chair, between Hermione and someone he recognized as being one of the Gryffindor prefects. "Summer was good."

"Yeah," agreed one of the boys. "We were in Egypt for a month, you know."

"It seems like everyone's been traveling this year," said Mr. Granger, looking amused. "Hermione was quite enthusiastic, learning about Magical France."

"France, really?" asked the Weasley patriarch. "I've never been, though I've heard it's quite nice."

Gabriel tuned out the adult's conversation. They were grouped at one end of the table, all five of them, and all of the students taking up the rest of the space and chatting about various things.

"They still haven't caught Sirius Black, you know," Michael was saying as Gabriel's attention drifted back to the conversation. "It's insane, they still don't know how he broke out of Azkaban-"

"Azkaban?" Gabriel interrupted. The name sounded familiar.

"The wizard prison," Hermione explained for him. "It's out in the middle of the North Sea, I think."

"No one's ever escaped before," one of the twins, Fred probably, put in.

"It's impossible," said George, with a dramatic gesture. "And he's the first to ever get out."

"Maybe it's because he's bonkers."

"Enough," said Mrs. Weasley sharply. "There's no need to talk about things like Sirius Black at the table. How about we talk about the new third-year classes instead?"

After dinner, everyone who didn't get in their cars to go home retired to various rooms upstairs from the pub. A loud argument next door had begun, over a missing tonic or something and a lost badge. Gabriel rolled his eyes and wished he knew how to use a silencing charm. He rustled through his trunk to try and distract himself and discovered that he'd left one of his books downstairs. He figured he should go get it - the yelling would probably be quieter from a floor away.

The stairs creaked underneath his shoes, seemingly louder now that it was late and so many people had left. The main room of the pub was practically deserted.There were still two people downstairs, however - the Weasley parents were arguing over something.

"...insists on treating Harry like a child..."

Curious at the mention of his vessel's name, Gabriel drew closer.

“...The truth would terrify him!” Intrigued, Gabriel quickly darted behind the staircase to hide, listening intently. What would terrify him? “He’s only thirteen!”

“I know, Molly!” That was Ginny’s father talking. “If anything, that makes me more determined. Young as he is, if he’s not on his guard who knows what will happen?”

    “On his guard?” Mrs. Weasley repeated incredulously. “What’s he going to do against Sirius Black!” Mr. Weasley hushed her quickly, but Gabriel had heard, and his curiosity had intensified. Sirius Black didn’t have anything to do with him, as far as he knew, and they weren’t talking about a general warning. They wanted to warn him, specifically.

    “Molly, he saved Ginny’s life last year,” Mr. Weasley said quietly. “If I can repay that favor-”

    “But nobody knows for sure that Black’s after him.” Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up. Why would Sirius Black want anything to do with Harry Potter?

    “Why do you think the Ministry wants dementors at Hogwarts? They’re worried, and we’re no closer to catching them than I am to becoming Minister. There’s things they haven’t reported...”

    “What kind of things?”

    There was a pause, like Mr. Weasley was glancing around to make sure nobody was listening. Gabriel slunk a little further under the stairs.

    “Things that Black’s done in Azkaban,” Mr. Weasley said at length. “Muttering things to himself...he’s dead set on Hogwarts, Molly, trust me on that.”

    “But he can’t possibly be able to get in.”

    “The Ministry’s not so sure anymore. The basilisk last year rattled the Board of Governors, and they’re still uncovering suspicious things about Quirrell...they haven’t told anyone, but his body was found in the school at the end of Ron’s first year.”

    Mrs. Weasley gasped. “Dead since then? Why didn’t they say?”

    “Nobody wanted a fuss - but Fudge is paranoid, and if something like that could happen so quietly, he’s convinced that Black’s going to be able to get in. If he does, I don’t want him taking anybody unawares, least of all Harry.”

    “Oh, well-” Mrs. Weasley sounded reluctant. “I think-”

    “Listen to me!” Mr. Weasley hissed. “Black’s deranged, and he wants Harry dead. He lost everything the night You-Know-Who died, and if you ask me, he probably thinks killing Harry is the way to solve all his problems at once and maybe even bring You-Know-Who back in the process. He’s had twelve years to sit on what happened that night and hold a grudge.”

Gabriel leaned closer in the ensuing silence. This was something he hadn't at all expected when he'd heard of Black's escape. Who was Sirius Black? Just a Death Eater, or something more? So many of them had escaped prosecution, from what Gabriel had read, so what made this man any different? It couldn’t just be a personal vendetta.

"Well, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley eventually spoke. "You do what you think is right. But you're forgetting Dumbledore.”

Mr. Weasley sighed. “I haven’t forgotten Dumbledore. We had to clear having the dementors on the grounds with him, after all. he’s not happy about it.”

"Not happy? Why shouldn't he be happy, if they're there to catch Black?"

"Dumbledore isn't fond of the Azkaban guards," Mr. Weasley said heavily, and Gabriel wondered what kind of people they had guarding the prison, exactly. Mr. Weasley seemed like the sort to be fond of almost everyone. "Nor am I, and if you ask me they shouldn’t be anywhere near children. But desperate times, I suppose."

"If they save Harry-"

"-Then I will never say another word against them. It's late, Molly, we'd better go up."

Chairs scraped and Gabriel ducked farther away. He listened as steps went up the stairs, fading away slowly as the two Weasleys left to wherever their room was. Coming out slowly, Gabriel retrieved the forgotten book and ascended to his own room.

So Sirius Black was after him, or at least his vessel, because of what had happened on Halloween 1998. The man, according to one article Gabriel had read earlier in his stay at the alley, who had murdered thirteen people with one curse.

While not very terrifying, Gabriel knew he'd have to be careful. If Black cornered him with other people around, Gabriel would be unable to use anything but magic, leaving himself rather helpless, and if Black did manage to get a lucky shot in Gabriel would have a hard time explaining why he wasn't dead to any witnesses.

Gabriel sighed internally and wondered why his years in the magical world were always so fraught with peril. There was always some larger plot that he only felt tangentially in control of. Maybe he had gotten the bad luck from the broken mirror in first year. It would be just his luck.

    He snorted at the pun, and went to go to bed. They left for school tomorrow, after all, and it wouldn’t do to be tired when facing whatever peril awaited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tadaaaaa. I hoped you liked the bits with Balthazar. I've also decided that, while the Weasley's aren't a main part, they've all decided to sort of take in Gabriel since he saved their little sister. Basically they're not major players but they are going to play a larger part than they have been.
> 
> Comment, please!


	21. The Dementors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're moving into third year properly now - I hope you're all excited to see what Gabriel does with the issue of Sirius Black! Unfortunately, like the past few years, he won't change much - with so little Grace, there's only so much Gabriel can do, but I think he manages to cause a certain amount of chaos anyway.
> 
> Enjoy!

King's Cross was as busy as usual. Gabriel had once again been offered a ride to the station, this time by the Weasleys, who as it turned out own a magically extended Ford Anglia. The front seat had been stretched so far that it resembled a park bench, to say nothing of the rest of the seats.

"You know," Gabriel had said as he scooted over to make room for the others, "I have to admit, I was wondering how we were all going to fit in here."

The trip had been surprisingly short, given the amount of traffic, and soon enough they were all being packed on to the train as parents sent them off with hugs and promises to write. Gabriel was about to walk onto the train when someone pulled him aside.

"Harry - a moment, please?"

It was Mr. Weasley. Gabriel allowed himself to be pulled off to an out-of-the-way bit on the platform.

"There's something I've got to tell you," he said in a low voice.

"I actually overheard you last night," Gabriel told him straight away. "Left my book down in the pub."

"Ah," Mr. Weasley looked uncomfortable. "That's not the way I'd have chosen for you to find out."

"It's fine, really." Gabriel told him.

"Harry, you must be very scared-"

"I'm fine, I really am." Gabriel was mentally rolling his eyes. He noticed that Mr. Weasley was looking at him doubtfully. "Seriously. I mean, he can't be worse than Voldemort, can he?"

Mr. Weasley flinched at the name. Gabriel had forgotten how sensitive people were about it. "I-" He looked unsure what to say. "Well, just don't-"

"Sorry," said Gabriel quickly, talking over him. "Train's about to leave, got to go." He darted out of the way and swung himself onto the nearest car, trunk thudding as he pulled it up the short staircase. Gabriel trailed down the hallway and almost walked past a compartment in search of an empty one before he realized it contained Michael and Hermione.

"Hey!" he said, pulling the door open. "Anyone feel like helping me with my trunk?"

"I'm sure you can handle it, Harry." A large wickerwork basket was next to Hermione, and ginger hair poking through the holes assured Gabriel that it was Crookshanks the cat.

"Who's he?" Gabriel asked, pushing his trunk onto the luggage rack. A man in slightly tattered robes was sitting in the corner on Michael's other side, leaning against the window and obviously asleep.

"Professor R. J. Lupin," said Hermione promptly. Ron, who had followed Gabriel in, looked agog.

"How d'you know that?" He asked, astonished. Hermione pointed to the luggage rack.

"It's on his case." Sure enough, there was a suitcase with the initials and name written on it in faded gold leaf. The suitcase seemed just as tattered and used as the robes - and now that Gabriel looked closer, the man was a bit worn as well, with a lined face and traces of parallel white scars that must have been made by some sort of claws. His hair was flecked with gray, and Gabriel wasn't surprised that the man was asleep - he looked absolutely exhausted.

"Wonder what he teaches?" Michael whispered as Gabriel sat down next to the man, leaving a bit of space in between them.

"Defense, of course," Gabriel answered. "What other position is empty?" He eyed the sleeping man. There was something odd about him, but he couldn’t put a finger on what.

"I hope he's up to it," Ron said, aware that he was a bit of an outsider and trying to break the ice. "He looks like one good curse would finish him off."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Hermione said. "Dumbledore wouldn't hire someone who was too incompetent to teach."

"I'm sorry," Gabriel said disbelievingly. "Am I the only one who remembers Lockhart?"

Ron tried and failed to muffle a snort of laughter as Hermione glared at Gabriel with no real feeling behind the look. Even Michael was grinning a bit.

"Speaking of new things," Michael began, "What do you think of Hogsmeade?"

"I've heard it's the only entirely magical settlement in Britain," Hermione said promptly. "D'you know much about it?" she asked Ron.

"Not really," he said. "I mean, not stuff like that. Fred and George have told me about the shops, though. There's a Dervish and Banges, and a Zonko's of course...oh, and Honeydukes."

"I'm looking forward to that," said Michael, still grinning. "Harry'll probably be in heaven."

"Why, what's Honeydukes?" Gabriel leaned back into the seat, wriggling into the cushiest bits.

"It's a candy shop," Michael told Gabriel.

"Excellent." Gabriel grinned back. "Good thing I got my permission slip signed."

"They've got everything," Ron said happily. "Pepper Imps, great fat Chocoballs...and these really excellent Sugar Quills you can suck in class and just look like you're thinking of what to write next-"

"But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place historically, too" Hermione told them. "In Sites of Historical Sorcery, it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain-"

Ron was plainly not listening to a word she said, as he had not stopped extolling the virtues of the candy shop while she spoke. Gabriel elbowed the boy harshly and asked Hermione, "What about Hogwarts? They've got plenty of ghosts."

"There are more in the Shack, I suppose," said Hermione, while Ron put a hand to his side and looked at Gabriel incredulously. "Of course, nothing's been heard from it in ages-"

"Heard?" asked Michael, glancing towards her and away from the window, which ne'd been staring out. "Don't you mean seen?"

"No one's gone in it either," Hermione explained. "Apparently the villagers used to hear really terrifying howls and screams from the Shack on some nights, and no one's ever gone in since then."

"Sounds a bit more violent than the Hogwarts ghosts," commented Gabriel, frowning. He’d hate to actually have to deal with an unruly spirit. The school ghosts had just started to get used to him.

Hermione nodded absentmindedly. She was undoing the latch on the wickerwork basket which held Crookshanks, and as it fell open the cat leaped onto her lap, stretching.

Ron was staring at it. "What in Merlin's name is that?"

"It's a cat," Hermione snapped.

"Yeah, and didn't you consider that I've got a pet rat?" Ron pointed angrily to the lump in his shirt pocket as Gabriel wrinkled his nose. Hermione was about to retort when Lupin stirred and they all froze.Fortunately, he didn't wake up and instead settled down again.

As the train moved north the scene outside became steadily wilder as they moved farther into the highlands. The traditional game of Exploding Snap had been forgone, because of their sleeping companion, and when the trolley cart came by they started a whispered competition to see who could get the best Chocolate Frog cards which even Hermione joined in on. Crookshanks sat on her lap the whole time, and Gabriel rather thought that it looked like the cat was eyeing the rat in Ron's pocket. He didn’t envy the rat.

Mid-afternoon, when it had started raining outside, Draco Malfoy showed up.

Ron looked up and he had nearly stood up angrily when Gabriel pulled him back down. "Hello," he said despite the angry Weasley sitting next to him.

"Ah-" Draco had obviously not expected someone new to be in the compartment, and especially not a Weasley. He looked unsure of his welcome. "I suppose I'll-""Come in?" Gabriel suggested. "I bet you can't find a card better than Bathilda Bagshot."

"I've got plenty of cards better than Bagshot," Draco scoffed as he closed the door behind him, still keeping a wary eye on Ron. "Give me those."

"Say please."

"What?"

The train sped ever further north and the atmosphere in the compartment began to relax, though Ron and Draco never spoke directly to each other. Lupin kept sleeping, despite the rain rattling against the train and the wind roaring by and the rattle of the wheels.

The view outside the window was completely black and no matter what any of them did, they couldn't see out. Ron tried to peer out.

"We must be nearly there by now," he said. No sooner had the words left his mouth than the train began to slow. "Ah, brilliant, I'm starving."

"We can't be there yet," objected Hermione, checking her watch.

"Why are we stopping, then?" asked Michael, trying in vain to see something outside the window.The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of it moving faded away, the storm outside howled even louder. It came to a complete stop with a jolt and distant heavy thuds told them that people's luggage was falling out of the racks. Gabriel had to hurriedly push to keep a dark blue one in place and stop it from hitting everyone sitting on the opposite side. Without warning, they were plunged into darkness as the lamps extinguished themselves.

"What's going on?" Draco demanded imperiously from what sounded like directly in front of Gabriel. Gabriel stood up, meaning to look out into the hallway, and stepped on something.

"Ouch!" Hermione gasped. "That was my foot!"

Gabriel reached behind him, accidentally felt up Ron's knee, and then sat down again in his old spot. He didn’t like any of what was going on, and he really didn’t like that he didn’t know the reason for any of it.

"D'you think we've broken down?" Ron asked.

"If we have, the train picked a horrible time to stop working," Gabriel muttered. The sound of rain thudding down on the roof almost drowned him out.

There was a squeaking sound, and a dim black outline of someone who was probably Michael became slightly more visible. He had wiped a bit of the window clean and was again peering out.

"There's something moving out there," ne said slowly. "I think people are coming aboard..."

"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," said Hermione's voice. Something shuffled in the dark and the compartment door squeaked open. There was a thud and two loud "Ow!"s.

"Who's there?"

"Hello?"

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron-"

"Come in-"

"Don't sit here!" Gabriel hissed as someone moved in front of him. "I'm here!"

"Ow," someone groaned.

"Quiet!" A hoarse voice spoke. Evidently, Lupin had woken up at last. There were shuffling movements from the corner he was in, and no one spoke.

Then there was a soft crackling noise, and a shivery light filled the compartment. Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of fire. His face was as tired as ever, but his eyes were alert and wary. It was a far cry from the exhausted, sleeping professor.

"Stay where you are," he said, voice still hoarse, and carefully eased to his feet, still holding the fire. He was holding it out in front of himself, as if warding something off.

The door slid open before he could reach it.Gabriel's Grace flared in response to whatever creature was standing in the doorway. It was cloaked and towered to the ceiling, the hood completely covering its face.

Before anyone could look at it for more than a split second, whatever it was drew a long, rattling breath, and an intense cold permeated the compartment. Something rushed up to meet Gabriel and he was drowning in the cold, a hopeless feeling permeating him before his Grace could do anything, and as if from far away Gabriel heard a gentle whisper that he distinctly remembered.

_Amateur hocus-pocus...don't forget...you learned all your tricks from me, little brother..._

Acute terror seized Gabriel. Before he could try and struggle away from the memory, someone else shouted.

"Harry! Wake up!"

He was being slapped.

" _Harry!_ Harry!"

Gabriel blinked his eyes open. He wasn't aware of having closed them.

The lanterns had come back on, and as the floor was shaking beneath him Gabriel guessed that the train had started again. He had somehow ended up on the floor instead of in his seat. Everyone was kneeling over him with wide eyes except for Lupin, who was standing by the door with concerned eyes on him. Gabriel felt slightly shaky as he sat up, which dissipated soon enough, and Hermione rushed to try and prop him up.

"Hermione, I'm alright."

"You just fainted!" she shrieked at him.

"Did I?"A loud snap made them all jump. Lupin was breaking an enormous bar of chocolate into pieces.

"Here," he said, handing Gabriel a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."

Gabriel, while never one to turn down chocolate, held it for a moment. "What was that?"

"A dementor," Lupin answered, now handing out chocolate to everyone. "One of the Azkaban guards."

Gabriel's heart sank slightly. "Those are the things that are going to be around all year? Who thought putting them around kids was a good idea?"

"Eat," Lupin repeated, glancing towards the piece of chocolate Gabriel still held. "And apparently, Minister Fudge."

Gabriel took a bite as he glowered over the thought of those things being around all year. The candy seemed to help chase away the lingering cold, and Gabriel hauled himself back onto the seat. Lupin disappeared out the door and walked away down the hall.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" Hermione asked. She was still watching him worriedly, as though he might keel over at any moment. Michael, too, was tracking his every movement. Draco was the only one not looking at him; the Slytherin was sitting stiffly by the door, hands clenched on his knees.

"I'm fine," Gabriel repeated. "What happened?"

"Well - that thing - the Dementor - it stood there and looked around, I mean I think it did, its hood moved a little, and you-" Michael faltered and seemed unable to continue nir sentence.

"You went rigid," Ron picked up. He still looked a bit pale. "Like someone had petrified you. And then you just slid off the seat onto the floor. I thought you were having some sort of attack-"

"And then Professor Lupin told the dementor 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' And when it didn't leave he used some sort of spell and it just glided off." Hermione said.

Ginny, who was curled in the opposite corner looking about as well as Gabriel had felt, let out a small sob. Hermione put a comforting arm around her shoulders. Gabriel glanced at what remained of his chocolate, then offered it to her.

"Thanks," she said miserably, taking it. It wasn't hard to guess that, based on what Gabriel had been forced to remember, she had had a flashback of the Chamber. Gabriel cursed himself for not remembering nightmares last year, but it would be a bit strange now to put a couple fingers on her head and anyway he needed to conserve his Grace.

"But - none of you fell off your seats?" he asked, rubbing his fingers together and then licking the faint smudges of chocolate off them.

"No," Michael answered. "Ginny was shaking like mad though."

Lupin entered again before the conversation could go any further. "We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," he informed them. "Are you alright, Harry?"

Gabriel didn't ask how the man knew his vessel's name. "Fine." Lupin hesitated, as though he would like to ask more, but finally nodded and vanished down the hallway again.

During the remainder of the journey, no one spoke much. Draco had maintained a pale-faced silence ever since Gabriel had woken up, and as Gabriel composed a scathing letter to the Minister in his head they stopped at Hogsmeade station. There was the general clatter of pets being unloaded, but it wasn't quite as noisy as usual. The muffling effect of the freezing rain combined with the dementor incident made everything unusually quiet. They couldn't get to a coach soon enough. All of them who had been in the compartment - even Draco - piled into one together. The thestrals were still there, and they seemed to walk a bit faster up to the school, as if just as eager to get out of the rain. Hermione and Michael kept casting anxious looks at Gabriel, who by now had fully recovered, thank you very much.

There were two more dementors at the gates. Gabriel closed his eyes tightly and felt a hand on his shoulder as he tried to remind himself that no, he could not smite them because not only did he not have enough energy for all of them, there were other people in the coach he might accidentally blind. They passed by the guards quickly, but it was an unpleasant moment. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt and they all piled out. They joined the crowd swarming up the steps to get out of the rain and hurried through the giant oak front doors into the Entrance Hall.

It was strangely wet _inside_ as well, and when Peeves appeared with an armful of water balloons Gabriel gave the poltergeist a withering glare, in absolutely no mood for pranks. Peeves zoomed off at once when he caught the look, which Ron watched bemusedly.

"That's weird," he said aloud, the words almost lost in the noise of the crowd around them. "I've never seen Peeves do anything like that before."

"Strange," Gabriel agreed as a voice called out "Potter! Granger!"

Gabriel and Hermione both turned around. It was Professor McGonagall, hurrying across the marble floor towards them, her hair drawn up into its customary bun.

"There's no need to look so worried," she told them as they came over. "I just want a word in my office - Corner, Weasley, Malfoy, move along."

Michael cast a glance behind nem, but Hermione and Gabriel were already being swept along out of the way and through the corridors. As they entered her office McGonagall settled behind her desk, pinning Gabriel with a stare as he and Hermione sat down.

"Professor Lupin sent ahead an owl to say you were ill on the train," she said. Gabriel tried to keep his eyeroll internal.A knock sounded on the door and Madam Pomfrey came bustling in, zeroing in on Gabriel.

"I'm fine," Gabriel said loudly, but that didn't stop her.

"I suppose you were doing something dangerous again?" she asked, bending down to stare at him closely. She obviously had been told about last year's events.

"It was a dementor, Poppy," said McGonagall.They exchanged a dark look, and Gabriel succeeded in leaning back far enough as the chair tilted backwards. Madam Pomfrey tugged him back down sharply, making the chair thud onto all fours.

"He should have some chocolate, at least," said Madam Pomfrey, who was now trying to peer into Gabriel's eyes.

"I've had some already," Gabriel retorted. "Lupin gave us some on the train."

" _Professor_ Lupin," McGonagall corrected.

"Did he, now?" Madam Pomfrey seemed pleased. "Well, at least we've finally got a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies."

"Are you sure you're alright, Potter?" McGonagall asked sharply.

"Yes," Gabriel was getting thoroughly sick of people asking him that.

"Very well. Please wait outside, then, while I speak to Miss Granger about a small matter with her timetable," McGonagall said. "Then we can walk down to the Great Hall together."

Gabriel reentered the corridor, Madam Pomfrey exiting with him. She left, probably for the Hospital Wing, muttering about something under her breath. He only waited a few minutes before both McGonagall and Hermione came out, the latter looking happy about something. Gabriel didn't have time to ask what had made her so thrilled as they were immediately led back down the staircase, and into the Great Hall.The Hall was the same as usual, swamped with black and the long house tables lined with students. It was illuminated by the usual yellow candlelight, and as they entered they passed Flitwick carrying away a three-legged stool and the tattered Sorting Hat.

"Oh," Hermione said. "We've missed the Sorting!" She sounded genuinely disappointed.

They split up at the doors, Hermione leaving for the Gryffindor table while Gabriel continued on to the Ravenclaw one. Michael was waiting for him, a seat reserved to nir right.

"What did she want?" Ne asked as Gabriel took the seat.

"Just wanted to see if I was okay."

"And are you?"Gabriel tried very hard not to smack his head onto the table, and with superhuman effort succeeded. Any response he might have had was cut off as Dumbledore stood up at the staff table, beard as long as ever and robes decorated with shooting stars that actually moved.

"Welcome!" He called out, the noise in the hall dying down as everyone listened. "Welcome all of you to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few announcements this year, and so I would beg you to please listen carefully.

"As you have no doubt noticed,, this year we are playing host to the dementors of Azkaban, here on Ministry of Magic business." Dumbledore paused here, and Gabriel remembered what he had heard about the headmaster being upset with them being there. He was too far away to make out Dumbledore’s face, but he guessed he didn’t look it, either.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, and Gabriel groaned under his breath. "And while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody to go out onto the grounds without permission. Dementors are not fooled by tricks or disguises-" Gabriel was sure that Dumbledore's eyes flashed to him, "-or even invisibility cloaks. They do not understand pleading, or excuses. I must warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to our prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure none of you run afoul of the dementors."

Here Dumbledore paused and looked very seriously around the hall. No one was speaking, all of them listening carefully to the warning.

"On a happier note," Dumbledore said, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year!"First, is Professor Remus Lupin, who will be taking over the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts." Lupin waved as scattered and altogether unenthusiastic applause sounded. Those who had been in the compartment with him clapped harder, though Lupin still looked a bit shabby next to all the other teachers. Snape was staring at Lupin as though he'd like nothing better than to see Lupin thrown out on his ass.

"What's up with Snape?" Michael muttered, also having noticed this.

"No idea."

“The second,” Dumbledore announced, and the applause quickly cut off, “Is for our Care of Magical Creatures position! Professor Kettleburn has decided to retire so that he may enjoy the time he has left quietly, with his remaining limbs. I am happy to say that Rubeus Hagrid will be taking the position, in addition to his usual duties.”

The applause was even less enthusiastic the second time around. Even the teachers seemed a little halfhearted about it. Hagrid, at the end of the table, was beaming widely and didn’t seem to notice.

"As I believe that is everything of importance," Dumbledore said grandly, "Let the feast begin!"

He sat down as the tables filled with food, students eagerly setting upon it. Chatter and the clink of silverware soon filled the air, but at this point Gabriel was eager for it to end. In particular he was eager for the privacy he’d be afforded once they got to the dorm. Dinner could not be over fast enough, and by the time dessert was cleared away Gabriel was feeling something suspiciously like exhaustion.

He drifted along with the other Ravenclaws as they walked to the Tower, someone at the front answering the riddle and letting them all pile into the common room. Gabriel straggled along into the third-year dorms and managed to locate the bed with his trunk at the end of it. He fell onto it with a cushioned thump and wondered why he was being forced to deal with those cloaked monstrosities all year.

    He did not get to sleep easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Gabe, the dementors really freaked him out. With his Grace, things like that normally wouldn't work on him, but without...well, it's not like the Basilisk, it's not trying to kill him, so...
> 
> And yes, that was all absolutely necessary.


	22. Tea Leaves and Boggarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HALLOWE'EN! Or Samhain, if you celebrate that, which I have been apparently pronouncing wrong for years. It's 'su-aine', not 'sam-hane'. Gaelic is a hell of a language. 
> 
> Anyway, new chapter! Moving briskly into third year, but we've still got a while to go before we get to the climax. Lucky for you!
> 
> Enjoy!

When timetables were passed around at breakfast the next day, Gabriel barely spared a glance at it. The charm on his bag had persisted, which meant he still carried all his books around with him, and so whichever class he had first he'd probably have the supplies for it.

"New classes today," Michael observed. "We've got Divination first - you signed up for that, right?"

"Yeah," Gabriel agreed absentmindedly.

"Hey." Michael snapped nir fingers in front of Gabriel's face. "Wake up! You've been half asleep all morning."

Gabriel shoved Michael's hand away. "I'm just thinking."

"About what? The meaning of life?"

"Very funny."

* * *

 

Divination took ages to get to, mainly because it was in the North Tower, where neither Gabriel nor Michael had been before. Gabriel stopped recognizing the area of the school they were in ten minutes after they started walking, and another ten minutes later he started having doubts about whether the size of the inside of the school matched the size of the outside.

"There's got to be an easier way," Michael panted as they climbed the seventh flight of stairs, emerging onto a landing which was empty save for an uninhabited painting of a stretch of grass.

"Maybe we go right?" Gabriel suggested.

"No, the lake’s out that window, that's south."

Something ambled into the painting. It was a fat little grey pony, which set itself to eating the painted grass. A short, stout knight in armor came chasing after it soon enough.

"Aha!" he yelled as he saw Gabriel and Michael. "And who are you? Villains? Come to mock me, no doubt!" He drew a sword which looked much too long for him and waved it around. "Draw, you knaves!"

Gabriel stared at the picture in disbelief as a particularly wild swing sent the knight toppling over and buried his sword in the dirt.

"We're looking for the North Tower, actually," Michael said as the knight righted himself. “Do you know where it is?” The painted figure's anger vanished.

"A quest!" he shouted. "Come follow then, my friends, and we shall complete it or die trying!" He tugged uselessly on the sword, failed to mount the pony, and then yelled "On foot then, dear comrades! Follow me!"He sprinted, as much as a stout armor-laden painted figure could sprint, out of the left side of his painting. Gabriel and Michael exchanged a glance, and almost as one shrugged and ran to catch up.

The knight was surprisingly fast. It was only his continued shouting and occasional encouragements of “Onwards!” that allowed them to keep track of which ways he went. Eventually, Gabriel skidded to a halt in front of a dead end staircase, Michael a few feet behind him and the knight in a portrait to the right.

"I have taken you as far as I can go," the knight announced. He was sitting down and had taken his helmet off, and Gabriel was amused to see painted sweat rolling down his forehead. "Fare thee well, brave fellows, and if you are ever in need of aid hesitate not to call upon Sir Cadogan!" He turned again and raced back the way they had come.

"That’s a pretty unique painting alright," Michael muttered as they took the last couple of steps and found the rest of the class milling around on the landing. Hermione was there as well. Gabriel’s initial impression of a dead end seemed to be right. There were no doors leading away. "Where's the classroom?" Michael asked blankly. Hermione pointed upwards, where on the ceiling there was a circular trapdoor which read 'Sybil Trelawney, Divination teacher'.

As the class whispered about how they were supposed to get up, the trapdoor was abruptly opened. A silvery ladder descended and hung, waiting for someone to ascend.

    Gabriel looked around at the nervous students, sighed, and went first.

He emerged into a very strange room. It looked like an old-fashioned, eccentric aunt's attic; an attic which at some point someone had tried to turn into a tea shop. There were a lot of little tables crammed into the room, with armchairs and stuffed stools clustered around them. All the windows were covered with heavy-looking curtains, making the room very dim, and the fireplace made it stiflingly hot. Somewhere, he could smell incense burning.

They all entered one by one, forming a small group around the trapdoor which the last person closed after themselves. Trelawney emerged suddenly from a shadowed portion of the room, startling all those near her.

"Welcome," she said mistily. "How nice to see you all in the physical world at last. Sit, my children, sit."

Gabriel, Hermione, and Michael claimed a table together, Gabriel hurriedly taking one of the armchairs in an effort to avoid the stuffed stools. Trelawney swept to the front of the class, proceeding into a spiel about divination in the same misty voice. Gabriel glanced around the classroom - there was a shelf he hadn't noticed earlier in the corner, absolutely stuffed full of what looked like china teacups. Gabriel wondered what they were supposed to be for.

He was, of course, curious about telling the future - that was why he had signed up for this class in the first place. Sure, he'd seen prophets and psychics, witches and all sorts with talents ranging from precognition to fairly accurate fortune-telling to simple bad feelings. Trelawney wasn’t a prophet, at least not the kind he was used to, or else he’d have known her name already. Probably. Gabriel frowned, wondering if his list of prophets included those from other universes, and missed the last bits of her speech. He was only jostled out of his thoughts when the class rose to go get teacups from the shelf.

Gabriel fetched one of his own to preserve the appearance of understanding and sat back down, wondering what they were supposed to be doing.

"What are we doing?" he hissed to Michael.

"Don't tell me you weren't paying attention."

They were doing tea leaf reading, as it turned out. Not Gabriel’s favorite, nor the most effective, but he’d see what these wizards could do. When in Rome...

He tried to drink the scalding tea quickly, pondering the benefits of just vanishing the mess - he'd never liked tea, even after thirteen years in England. The accent had stuck, much to the chagrin of Gabriel, whose vessel had had an American one for the last few hundred years. Not that that meant much, when it kept changing, but he’d been partial to his Southern accent. He glanced over at Michael, who had turned nir cup over and was letting the last bits of tea drip out of the bottom.Ne turned it back over and peered into the cup before glancing at Gabriel. "We're supposed to switch," ne said. "Have you done yours yet?"

Gabriel quickly swilled the dregs around a bit. "Yeah." Michael took Gabriel's cup and handed over nir own.There was a load of soggy brown stuff in the bottom, but apparently they were supposed to try and make out shapes. Maybe the bit to the left looked sort of like...something.

Gabriel leaned over Michael's shoulder to read nir book.

"Don't you have your own?" Michael asked, sounding exasperated."Yours is already out."

Michael had something that might have been a cross, except it looked more like a plus sign or an inverted one, or perhaps an X. Gabriel dug into his bag after Michael held up nir book so that Gabriel couldn't read it.

"Alright," he muttered. "You've got something that might be a couple things so I'll just look up all of them. So a plus sign means that you'll get something, no specifics listed...or if it's an X you'll get more of something you already have?"

Michael snorted. "Let's hope I get more money, then."

"Alright, what have you got then?" Gabriel turned the tables on Michael and looked over at nir expectantly.

"Er...you've got something that looks like a hawk, based on the picture they've got here...that's 'unexpected occurrence'...and this bit I think is another sort of bird, but I can't tell specifically which one."

"So I'm going to be surprised by a bird at some point?"

"Don't act like yours was any better, I think you need Inner Eye testing."

"My eyes are fine." Gabriel grinned as irritatingly as possible at nem.

"Not-"

Trelawney came swooping by their table. "Is something the matter, dears?"

"No," Gabriel and Michael said at the exact same time, and then glanced at each other in surprise.

"Let me see that, my dear," Trelawney said, taking Gabriel's cup. She stared into it, turning it counterclockwise. "The falcon...my dear, you have an enemy."

"I thought that was a hawk," Michael muttered, looking a little embarrassed. Hermione said nothing. Her arms were crossed, and she wasn’t listening to Trelawney with the usual fervent attention she afforded most professors.

"The skull...danger in your path. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup..." Gabriel, personally, was wondering about the authenticity of this method. He’d never heard of these symbols before.

"The flag...a secret revealed..." He hoped this was false.Trelawney turned the cup one final time and stared into it. She didn't say anything.

"Professor?" Michael spoke up when the silence began to stretch on. People were now peering over to their table, wondering what was going on.

"I have never seen a symbol like this before." That was enough to draw several people out of their seats to come over and look. Michael looked in as well.

"I thought it was some sort of bird," ne said.

"This is no bird that I can recognize," said Trelawney. "See here...the lines around the center, extending out...this figure has six wings." Gabriel looked up sharply at that. Six wings?

"What's got six wings?" One of the Gryffindors asked, and as if in response Gabriel's six still not flightworthy wings rustled ever so slightly. Trelawney glanced around, as if she'd noticed the nearly-silent noise.

"I do not know," Trelawney answered. "Perhaps...yes, let us end the class here...this omen may be ominous, a warning...Mr. Potter, please do be careful these next few months..."

In a strange mood, the class packed up their things. People were giving Gabriel looks the entire time, and he quickly descended the ladder, tired of being the center of attention.

    An enemy, danger, and a secret revealed. Then, somehow, him. Gabriel doubted that people usually got symbols representing themselves in their cups, so what did it mean? The enemy could be Sirius Black, possibly, but that was danger to Harry, not him. Except he was Harry as far as anyone else knew. Gabriel wished he could go to the library; he hadn’t made his way through all the relevant books yet, though he’d developed a keen eye for possibly helpful ones over the last few years. But there was no time; they had more classes to get through, and school stopped for no man.

As early as they had left Divination, it took ages for Gabriel and Michael to get down to their next class, Herbology. Sprout set them all immediately to pruning some shrubs that had gotten wild over the summer. Everyone got so tired and sweaty that by the time they left the greenhouses Divination had been all but forgotten.

    Gabriel skipped lunch in favor of the library, retreating to the far back and halfway up one of the shelves, where a convenient staircase landing gave him a place to sit while he read. He picked the likeliest of the books he’d identified and read as fast as possible, which for him was pretty fast. It was a thick tome, but he was about halfway through and paused on a description of a ritual similar to the one that had trapped him when he heard,

    “Harry?”

    Gabriel slammed the book shut and shoved it back into place before he looked down. Hermione was on the ground floor, frowning up at him.

    “Why aren’t you at lunch?” She asked.

    “Why aren’t you?” Gabriel replied, standing up to lean over the railing.

    “I didn’t think you’d be in the library this early in the school year.” Hermione moved towards the bottom of the staircase, as if meaning to climb up to him; Gabriel hurriedly descended himself. He didn’t need her asking about the kinds of books he’d been after.

    “Call me eager,” he said, smiling. “Don’t you have a ton of classes this year? I would think you’d be in one of them.”

    “Oh-” Hermione made an aborted movement with her hand, and then smiled back. “I have time. It’s alright. But I guess I should be going, then. See you in Ancient Runes!”

    Gabriel watched her speedwalk off, and then frown. He’d been joking. Who had a class during their lunch period?

    ...He’d keep an eye on her this year and make sure she was okay.

* * *

 

After lunch was Ancient Runes, which turned out to be much better than Divination had been. Professor Vector was an older woman who seemed very enthusiastic about the subject, and very knowledgeable about runes. She passed out a syllabus at the beginning of class, which was a very Muggle way of going about things that Gabriel enjoyed, and went on to talk about all the different runes they'd be learning about that year, and their various applications in magic. She drew several on the chalkboard in the front of the classroom and gave points to anyone who could name the language they were from.

    Gabriel kept his hand down as a Hufflepuff correctly named Norse runes as Younger Futhark, then as a quiet Slytherin identified Gaulish. The class seemed to mostly concentrate around European languages, which in terms of runes meant it was almost entirely centered around the futhark alphabets, which Gabriel knew perfectly well already. Hundreds of years as a Norse god had given him that much, at least.

Gabriel knew them all of course, but what was the point of showing off when he was here to 'learn' about them?

Hermione was in that class as well. She paid rapt attention to the board and flipped rapidly through her course book when she didn't recognize whatever was on the board, which was often. The first time everyone (well, almost everyone) in the class was stumped was when Vector wrote on the board in Aramaic. Gabriel listened with amusement as Vector described it as an ‘ancient language’ of ‘not very much importance’. It had been the lingua franca of the entire Middle East for almost a hundred years, but it wasn’t very good for magic, so the magical world didn’t care. Wizards.

Leaving the classroom, something made Gabriel look around. It wasn't a noise, or even seeing something out of place, but a trail of a feeling of something being a little bit...off. It dissipated before Gabriel could properly figure out where it was coming from. He frowned, but moved along with the crowd. Yet another mystery.

The rain from yesterday had let up, but Gabriel had no intention of going out onto the grounds like he might have after classes, due to the dementors. Instead, he went towards Muriel's room. There was a chance that she’d have a book with something about dementors and how to get rid of them. As he passed through a relatively empty hallway, a door opened just behind him.

"Oh, Harry! Hello there." It was Lupin. “You have excellent timing. Do you have a moment to spare?”

"Yeah? Why?" Gabriel hadn't even had a class with the man yet, he doubted that he was already in trouble.

"It's nothing," said Lupin. "Just - the class I had planned for tomorrow - I was going to have a practical, and I thought I might ask you to sit it out."

"Sit it out?" Gabriel stared at the man. "What for?"

"Well-" Lupin seemed unwilling to give Gabriel a heads-up on what they would be facing. "The creature we'll be facing is a very certain kind, and if you were to face it I believe that the rest of the class might be a bit-"

"I'm sure it'll be fine," said Gabriel. "What sort of creature is it?"

"A boggart," Lupin admitted. "It's supposed to take the shape of a fear you might have."

Oh. What fun. "And...you're worried mine might turn into something freaky?" Gabriel guessed.

Lupin looked at him in surprise. "I thought it might turn into Voldemort."

He was the first person Gabriel had met who actually called Voldemort by his name. Gabriel was already impressed. "I can think of a lot of things more frightening than someone I barely remember," was what Gabriel said aloud, remembering that he was only supposed to have faced Voldemort when he was 'one'.

"If you're sure-" Lupin looked reluctant.

"I think I'll be fine against this creature as long as you teach us how to defend ourselves." Gabriel continued along the hallway, raising one hand in a casual goodbye. Lupin didn't follow him as Gabriel turned a corner, his easy demeanor slipping away to be replaced by a scowl.

Another worst-fear creature?How many of them even existed? And the previous question notwithstanding, why was Gabriel being confronted with so many of them? This was entirely unfair. The universe was ganging up on him when he was at his worst.

To compound his foul mood, Muriel's room offered no answers as to Boggarts, but it did have one book on dementors. Unfortunately, said book was nearly as ancient as the school itself. It didn't list any spells to use against them, but did call them 'demons from the fiery pit of Helle' so even if there had been any their accuracy probably would have been debatable. Gabriel sighed, and slammed the book shut. If he was going to be forced to endure the dementors, he sure as hell wasn’t going to be happy about it.

Dementors, creatures, and nonexistent spells aside, the boggart lesson turned out to be very interesting.They had all sat down in the Defense classroom and gotten out their things when Lupin showed up. Gabriel was surprised he hadn’t been there before the class itself; most professors were. But he was quickly able to guess where Lupin had been.

"You can put all that away," Lupin said, gesturing at their books. "Wands out, please. We'll be having a practical lesson. Bring your things with you, we’ll be dismissed from our destination."

Muttering curiously, the class got up with their wands out and books back in their bags. Lupin led them out of the classroom and through several halls to a door where Peeves was stuffing gum in the keyhole.

"Peeves, clear off," said Lupin. The poltergeist stuck out his tongue at the professor.

"Watch closely," Lupin whispered to the class, drawing his wand. He flicked it at the keyhole. " _Waddiwasi!_ "

The gum flew out of the keyhole and stuffed itself up Peeves' nose. Cursing, the poltergeist fled, zooming off down the hallway as Lupin opened the door.

"That was awesome," said someone at the back of the crowd.

"Thank you," said Lupin with a faint smile, ushering in the class inside. It was the staff room, and there was already someone in it. As Lupin made to close the door, Snape turned around. "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not stay for this disaster." He strode out, robes billowing, and not for the first time Gabriel wondered whether he used a charm to get them to do that. The door slammed, as though Snape had given up on any sort of subtlety in conveying his dislike for Lupin.

The wardrobe at the other end of the room rattled in sympathy with the door, causing several people to jump.

"No need to worry," Lupin said reassuringly. "That's just a Boggart in there."

Many people seemed to think that this was a reason to worry, and considering the brief explanation Gabriel had gotten yesterday he didn't blame them. Most of the class were now eyeing the wardrobe warily, and seemed disinclined to go any farther towards it.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," explained Lupin, projecting his voice. "Wardrobes, under beds, the space under the sink - I found one once that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This particular one moved in yesterday, and I asked Dumbledore to hold off on getting rid of it so I could borrow it for today's lesson. The first question we must ask is, what is a boggart? Yes, Miss Fawcett?"

"It's a shape-shifter," said a girl near the back of the room. "It takes the shape of whatever will scare us the most.""Excellent. So," Lupin said, striding in front of the class, "The boggart in this wardrobe does not yet have a form. He does not know what will frighten the person who opens the wardrobe - yet. Nobody knows what one looks like when they're alone, but the minute I let the boggart out he will choose one fitting whoever is in front of him. This means," he said, ignoring the shifting of the class as they all tried not to be the one in front of the wardrobe, "That we have a large advantage. Has anyone spotted it yet? Harry?"

Gabriel glanced at the class, folding his arms across his chest. "There are too many people," he guessed, "So it might get confused."

"Couldn't have said it better," Lupin said, which Gabriel very much doubted. "It's always best to have company when facing a boggart, since then it will get confused between the two of you. Should it become a flesh-eating slug, or a headless corpse? I once saw a boggart make that exact mistake and become half a slug. Not remotely terrifying." There was a small titter of laughter. The wardrobe shook again, a little harder.

"Now, the charm that repels them is simple," Lupin said raising his own wand. "It only requires a bit of force. You see, what really finishes a boggart is laughter. You must force it to assume a form that you find funny. We'll practice without wands first. After me, please... _Riddikulus!_ "

"Riddikulus!" The class repeated, slightly discordant.

"Good, very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid." Lupin smiled reassuringly. "The word is not enough alone. You must get a good picture of what you want it to turn into, something that will take away the terror and make you laugh. Now, I want you all to take a moment and try and think of something the boggart might turn into, and how you might make that funny."

Gabriel pondered the idea. What might his boggart turn into? The thought of dementors entered his mind, but he shook it away - he wasn't scared of them, he just hated them. So what else was he afraid of?

"Everyone ready?" Lupin called. Gabriel considered saying ‘no’. "Now, Anthony-" A redhead in front of Gabriel jerked in surprise. Gabriel recognized him as one of his roommates. "-How about you go first?"

The rest of the class pulled away to line the walls, leaving Anthony facing the wardrobe on his own. He fidgeted nervously, looking anywhere but at the wardrobe."Ready?" Lupin asked him. Anthony took a deep breath and nodded. Lupin aimed his wand at the wardrobe and, in a shower of sparks, the wardrobe burst open.

Something came lurching out that was wrapped in bandages. It was a mummy, and it was a bit spooky, but Anthony hollered " _Riddikulus!_ " and it tripped over its own feet, turning into nothing but bandages as it fell with a noise like a whip crack.

"Excellent!" Lupin said as there was a smattering of laughter. "Padma, you next!"

Padma stepped up and the bandages reformed into a large snake, at least ten feet long and writhing. Padma stepped back at first, but then steeled herself and shouted " _Riddikulus!_ "

 _Crack!_ The snake was now a rubber toy."Good, Michael!" Michael darted in front of Padma, who was returning to the side. Crack! The Boggart was now a troll, lumbering forwards and swinging its club off its shoulder.

" _Riddikulus!_ " _Crack!_ The troll missed and hit itself with the club, which was dropped. It rolled towards Gabriel, who leaped forward.

 _Crack!_ Several people screamed. Gabriel didn't blame them. The man the boggart had turned into would have scared anyone, as he looked to be terminally ill, skin peeling away at his temples and revealing large red sores, but Gabriel knew better.

Maybe that was why he froze at first.

It smirked, the face twisting into a grin, and Not-Lucifer let a silver blade fall into his hand as he rushed towards Gabriel. The spell was on Gabriel's lips but it didn't seem to want to come out, and he dodged out of reflex as the boggart swung at him.

Gabriel whirled around with his wand raised, but realized halfway through the motion that he was holding it like a sword, not at the ready to cast a spell. He barely had time to process that before Lupin was darting between him and the boggart.

 _Crack!_ A silver orb was hanging in the air in front of Lupin. "Riddikulus!" he said, almost lazily, and the orb was punctured and went whizzing around the room before a great shout of laughter at the squeaking sound it made caused the boggart to explode into silver wisps.

"Very good!" Lupin shouted, but he was looking at Gabriel with an expression that could not have been called pleased even by the most idealistic person in the world. "Five points to Ravenclaw for everyone who faced the boggart, and ten to Miss Fawcett and Mister Potter, for answering my questions correctly at the beginning of class."

Talking excitedly, the class left the room. They seemed to have forgotten about Gabriel's Boggart just as quickly as Lupin had dispatched it, and several of them were saying that they hoped Lupin would last through the next year. Gabriel snatched his bag up and left as quickly as possible. He wasn’t going to give Lupin any time to confront him.

    Michael caught up with him quickly, matching his pace, but as soon as Gabriel saw nem open nir mouth he held up a hand to forestall nem. “Don’t you dare ask me if I’m alright.”

    He ignored the flash of hurt on Michael’s face and sped up. He just wanted to forget about the boggart, forget about how it had zeroed in so cleanly on his own fear, and forget how in the face of his brother he’d frozen.

    Gabriel took a sharp turn, not caring where he was going, and when he put a hand up on the railing to ascend the stairs, he realized his hand was shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh boy...I'm betting most of you can guess what - or who - Gabriel's Boggart was, huh?
> 
> A bit of a clarification - yes, Gabriel's terrified of Lucifer. He was before. But that's not why the Boggart took Lucifer's form - it's because Lucifer tried to kill Gabriel, and I think Gabriel's real fear would be dying. For good. I mean, he's faked his death how many times now? He probably could think of a hundred ways someone could kill him in a second.
> 
> God or trickster, he's probably spent hundreds of years dodging hunters. He's got to be at least a little paranoid about it.
> 
> So yeah, dying itself, not Lucifer specifically. Although Lucifer's probably tied into that.
> 
> Comment, please!


	23. Halloween Mayhem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How appropriate that this goes up only a few days after Halloween, huh?
> 
> A little more development in this chapter, which could probably be alternately titled Gabriel Wheedles Information Out of People and Eavesdrops on Private Conversations.

Defense Against the Dark Arts had quickly become everyone's favorite class, Lupin becoming one of the most popular teachers they'd ever had. Only some of the Slytherins disliked him, and as the majority of those were the rich pureblood type, they seemed to dislike him purely on principle. The rest of his classes had gone as well as the Ravenclaw's, and soon a story swept the school about how one of the Gryffindor's boggarts had been Snape, and the boy had forced it into his grandmother's clothes.

With his own boggart incident firmly behind him, Gabriel was looking forward to the upcoming Halloween feast, remembering the treats from last year. As an extra treat, before that was the first Hogsmeade visit of the year. Michael in particular was looking forward to it, practically vibrating with excitement the night before Halloween.

"Settle down or you're going to sleep in tomorrow," Gabriel said, amused. Michael was not intimidated in the least by Gabriel, mainly because Gabriel wasn't actively trying to be.

When October thirty-first finally did arrive, Michael was already awake and dressed when Gabriel came downstairs. Ne practically pulled Gabriel out the door and they met Hermione in the line to leave for the village, the people around them talking excitedly about all the places they were going to see.

Unfortunately, things did not go their way.

"Mr. Potter!" Flitwick was striding towards them. "May I speak to you for a moment?"

Bewildered, Gabriel followed the man out of the line. He hadn't spoken to his head of House much, besides that one time in first year, and he wondered what Flitwick wanted.

"Mr. Potter." Flitwick had led him to the side, in an adjacent hallway. "I have a bit of a question about your Hogsmeade permission slip."

"What about it?"

"The man who signed it..." Flitwick brought out a piece of parchment and regarded it. Gabriel recognized Balthazar's sprawling signature. "Who is he?"

"He's my guardian."

"Yes, about that...I was under the impression you lived with your mother's sister? Petunia Dursley?"

"They signed over custody." Gabriel wondered where this was supposed to be going. "All legal, if that's what you're getting at."

"And what about the magical side of things?"

"The what?" Gabriel stared at him. "You're telling me the Dursleys were my magical guardians as well?"

"No, of course not. But there are several things that needed to be done that were not, and so.." Flitwick looked rather apologetic. "Dumbledore, honestly, is trying to make sure that your guardian is suitable."

It took Gabriel several moments to process this.

"Why's it his business?" He asked, getting rather irritated.

"The headmaster is in charge of the wellbeing of all the students in Hogwarts-"

"If Balthazar was an unsuitable guardian then the Dursleys wouldn't have signed over custody." Well, they might have. "And he's related to my mum too, if that's the problem! He was her cousin."

Flitwick seemed surprised by the news, but he stood his ground. "I'm sorry, but until we can be assured that your new guardian is suitable, I'm afraid this signature doesn't count."

_ That  _ was what this was all about? They didn't want him going to the village? Gabriel glowered at the man.

"None of that," Flitwick said severely. "We're just trying to keep everyone safe." For what it was worth, he did look slightly regretful, but Gabriel just stormed off.

He could just go down to the village anyway, but then he'd have to be under the cloak (which the dementors could see through) and he'd still have no way of actually getting out of the castle.

Fuming, Gabriel walked for several minutes before realizing that he hadn't told Hermione and Michael about being forbidden to go. They were probably wondering where he'd gotten to, unless Flitwick had explained things to them.

"They don't care about my guardian," Gabriel muttered, kicking the wall lightly. "They're just worried about Sirius Black. The dementors are more of a problem than he is, and they're stationed all 'round the school but no, we've got to watch out for a man who probably killed himself escaping the place from how little's been seen of him-"

"Harry? What are you doing here?"

Gabriel swung around. It was Lupin, who was staring at him oddly and had probably overheard him.

"I've been forbidden from going to Hogsmeade." Gabriel told him.

"Ah." Lupin seemed to understand. "Would you like to come up to my office?" He offered. "I've just gotten a Grindylow delivered for the next class."

"A what?" There were all sorts of strange magical creatures, Gabriel mused as he followed Lupin. They had learned about a lot of them in his classes, but they weren't nearly as deadly as most of the ones Gabriel already knew of. And they were mostly animalistic. The grindylow, for example, was a weird octopus-like creature with long legs and a mouth full of sharp teeth.

"A type of water demon," Lupin explained as Gabriel tapped on the glass of the tank. The grindylow snarled at him. "The trick is to break its hold on you...their legs are very strong, but very brittle as well."

"Hm." Now that he mentioned it, Gabriel thought he could see what the teacher was talking about.

"Harry." Lupin sounded unusually serious. Gabriel turned around to see the man leaning on his desk. "I actually had a few questions for you, about the boggart."

"Oh." Of course he'd had an ulterior motive.

"Well, I think you can understand that it was a bit alarming." Lupin shifted so that he was standing up. "But I thought it was a bit  _ more _ alarming that the Boggart was very concrete - it was a person. And well, I looked the man up and didn't find anything on him, so I know he's not some famous serial killer you might have heard of and developed a fear of, so-"

"You think I met him," Gabriel finished. Well, at least Lupin wasn't an idiot.

"Yes," Lupin agreed. "And based on not only his appearance but the fact that he tried to attack you with what looked like a sword, I feel like I have to ask-"

"Why do you care?"

Lupin looked at him in shock. "Well generally, when I think someone's been in a life-threatening situation-"

"No, no, you'd report it to Dumbledore if that was the case." Gabriel said confidently. "Not bring me into your office for a chat."

Lupin looked nonplussed. "Harry, why would I have a higher motive for trying to make sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," Gabriel said, repressing the urge to roll his eyes. "Really, I am. I haven't been traumatized or anything by the Boggart."

Lupin tried changing tactics. "How about we each answer a question?" he asked. "You ask me one and I'll answer, but then you have to answer one of mine - honestly."

Gabriel considered it. "Fine," he said shortly, taking the seat in front of the desk. Lupin took the one behind it.

"Me first." said Gabriel before Lupin could begin. "Do you have another reason for caring?"

Lupin smiled tightly. "I knew your father while we were at school," he admitted. "We were in the same house - Gryffindor. We were quite good friends." He leaned closer slightly. "My turn. Is the boggart a real person?"

Gabriel considered the question, trying to figure out how to phrase it so as not to send Lupin into a panic. "Yes," he said slowly.

"Have you-"

"I get to ask a question next," Gabriel interrupted. He tried to think of something to ask, but nothing came to mind immediately except-

"Why is Sirius Black after me?"

That made Lupin sputter a bit. "How did you find that out?"

"You don't get a question yet, but if you'd like me to answer that-"

"No," Lupin hurried to say. "It's fine. It's just-" He took a deep breath. "I didn't expect you to ask  _ that." _

"Do you know the answer?"

"...Yes."

"You promised to answer honestly."

"I did. I know. But it's a very long story." Lupin sighed and ran a hand over his face, and Gabriel got the sense that the question had been more personal than he'd expected. "I suppose I should start at the beginning...

"I said your father and I were friends, but there were four of us in total; Me, James, Peter...and Sirius." Gabriel didn't react, letting Lupin go on. "We all knew each other very well, and when we graduated we all kept in touch.

"I'm not quite sure where it began to go wrong. The war was getting worse - you of course have heard of the things Voldemort did, but it was very different living through it. And at one point, Lily and James were convinced to go into hiding, just after you were born. They used something called the Fidelius - very tricky ward - basically, it makes everyone except those who are in on the 'secret' be unable to find whatever’s behind the wards.

"The problem with the Fidelius is, you need someone to keep the secret of the location. Lily cast the ward, I believe, and they used Sirius as the secret keeper." Lupin sighed heavily, and Gabriel held up a hand.

"I think I understand - he gave them away, didn't he."

"Yes." Lupin looked more worn than usual. "They were dark times, but I don't think any of us expected Sirius to betray your parents." Lupin suddenly seized one of Gabriel's hands. "Harry - I probably shouldn't have told you that story at all, but promise me - you can't go looking for Black."

"I'm not going to go looking for him!" Gabriel had better things to do with his time.

"Harry, I know you might say that, but if you get any sort of ideas about revenge-"

"I'm not about to go looking for a serial killer, I think you can trust me to be that smart," Gabriel snapped. Lupin finally let go, but he didn't look wholly convinced. "Are you going to ask your question?"

That seemed to remind him of what they were doing. "Oh, yes. Er-"

Someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," Lupin called as Gabriel twisted around in his seat.

It was Snape who walked in, carrying a steaming goblet. He paused when he saw Gabriel, eyes narrowing.

"Hello, Severus," Lupin said politely. Snape didn't reply, but just set the goblet down. "Thanks."

"I made an entire cauldronful, in case you needed any more," Snape said in his usual dark tone as Gabriel tried to lean away from the steam leaking off of whatever potion was in the cup.

"I should probably take some tomorrow as well. Thank you again, Severus."

Snape said nothing and simply left, shutting the door behind him.

Gabriel was still watching the potion. He wasn't  _ entirely _ sure what it was, but only a few potions smoked when they were done and he’d come across more than a few obscure ones in the search for a reversal to that ritual.

Lupin took a sip and grimaced. "I've been feeling a bit off-color," he said by way of explanation, obviously having noticed Gabriel staring. "I've never been much of a potioneer, and Severus is kind enough to make this for me...pity sugar makes it useless, though," he added, taking another swallow with a disgusted expression. His words only cemented the idea for Gabriel.

He'd thought something was a bit off about Lupin. There was nothing in his demeanor that hinted at it, but Gabriel had a bit of a talent at seeing more than just the exterior of a person.

Lupin cleared his throat as he set the now-empty goblet back on the table. "In any case. My next question...where did you meet the man your boggart took the shape of?"

Well, that wasn't too loaded a question. "A place called the Elysian hotel," Gabriel answered. "It was out in pretty much the middle of nowhere."

"I see."

"You know, I think I've got another question."

"Oh?"

"When were you bitten?"

If Gabriel thought Lupin had reacted badly to the Sirius question, it was nothing to his reaction now. He sat there, openmouthed, and Gabriel felt like he should explain. 

"There are only so many potions that smoke like that," he said, nodding towards the goblet. "Coupled with the fact that you just mentioned being ill..."

Lupin seemed to have recovered slightly, but he still didn't say anything.

"I'm not going to say anything, you know." Gabriel told him. "It's October. School started a month ago, which means this has already happened once before, and since no one's been horribly murdered I'm going to assume that you've got ahold of yourself. Plus I know what wolfsbane is for, and if you didn't care about other people's safety you wouldn't be taking it."

"Yes, well-" Lupin glanced down at the goblet which had given it away. "I suppose I'll have to be more careful who I drink this around, if they are half as knowledgeable as you.” He took a deep breath. “It was-"

"I don't actually want to know, I was just making sure." Gabriel cut him off. "Go ahead and ask another, I suppose."

Lupin was looking at him in mingled surprise and thoughtfulness. He cleared his throat again. "The man...did you get into a fight with him?"

That would be trickier to answer. Gabriel considered it carefully trying to figure out how to answer without lying. "Yeeees?" Technically they had stood around while Gabriel talked and then been stabbed, but it did count as a fight.

He did not seem to be reassuring Lupin at all. "And where is this man now?"

"That's two questions in a row, but I suppose I can answer. He's locked up." Gabriel had left the Winchesters a hint after all, and Balthazar had told him what happened afterwards. Gabriel hoped his mixed feelings didn’t show on his face, or if they did Lupin mistook them for something else.

"Well." Lupin was still looking at him awkwardly. He seemed unsure how to carry on the conversation.

Gabriel scooted his chair back and stood up. "Nice talking to you, professor. I'll see you in class." Lupin didn't stop him as he left the room.

* * *

 

Halloween was as good as it ever was. This year, amid the usual decorations of huge carved pumpkins and live bats, there were thick orange streamers which snaked around the ceiling and gave off the impression of being on fire. Michael and Hermione had returned from Hogsmeade with armfuls of sweets each for him, but that didn't stop Gabriel from eating half the tin of lollipops.

When they finished up it was to entertainment from the Hogwarts ghosts. Nick had performed a reenactment of his own bungled beheading, which was well appreciated, and they did a bit of formation gliding, silvery and nearly invisible in the bright candlelight.

It all seemed to be going well, and Gabriel was beginning to wonder where the usual Halloween bad luck had gone. First year there had been the troll, and then last year the Chamber had been opened and Mrs. Norris petrified and found on their way back to the Tower, but even as they entered the dormitory afterwards there seemed to be nothing wrong, and Gabriel allowed himself to think that maybe nothing would happen.

He was wrong, of course.

They were all woken an hour or so later (Gabriel had taken to actually sleeping at night, to see if that would have any affect on his Grace, which so far it hadn't) by some sort of commotion in the common room. Gabriel pulled on a shirt and went down with the rest of them to see what was the matter, and the entire House was sent back down to the great hall.

"What's going on?" Michael had squeezed through the crowd to get to Gabriel, coming up behind him.

"No idea, they just said we all had to go back downstairs. It's ten at night!"

"Something must have happened."

"Something always does, Michael, it's Halloween."

The Gryffindors were already there, and the other two Houses arriving to the Great Hall. Everyone but the Gryffindors were in their pajamas or some sort of casual clothes. Michael started looking around for Hermione, and someone else came up behind Gabriel. It was Draco.

"What in Merlin's name happened?" he demanded.

"I'd like to know just as much as you would."

"There she is!" Michael made a beeline for Hermione, who was near the other end of the hall. She looked up as she saw them approaching, Ron sitting next to her.

"What happened?" Gabriel asked once they got close enough. "The teachers just told us all to come down here and left us at the door."

Hermione looked rather pale. "It's the Fat Lady," she said.

"The what?" Draco asked with one eyebrow raised.

"The portrait guardian for our common room," Hermione explained, eyeing him a little distrustfully. "We got up there after the feast and the painting was all slashed up, and she was gone. Peeves said...Peeves told Dumbledore that Sirius Black did it."

"Black?" Michael exclaimed. Ne looked horrified. "But how'd he get in the castle?"

Dumbledore spoke up at that exact moment. "Students!" He called. "For tonight you are all to stay in the great hall. Prefects, make sure to keep a watch over things and make sure that no one leaves!" He paused. "Oh, you'll be needing..."

A wave of his wand and the House tables vanished, causing some people to drop to the floor abruptly. Gabriel caught Hermione by the arm before she fell. One more wave of Dumbledore's wand, and hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags covered the floor.

Dumbledore left with the other teachers. Most people immediately found a sleeping bag, and Gabriel grabbed several and dragged them into a circle.

"Thanks," Michael muttered, slipping inside one, still in nir shirt and sweater. Ne was the only one besides Hermione and Ron still in his uniform - even Draco was wearing a set of green pajamas.

"By the way," Draco was the one who spoke up. "What are you wearing?" He was looking at Gabriel.

Gabriel glanced down at himself. He was wearing a shirt Balthazar had snapped up for him as a joke at one point in the summer which featured a bad, stick figure version of a wizard. "What's wrong with it?"

"What's wrong-"

"Just because it's not fancy like your pajamas," Gabriel huffed in fake irritation. "Hermione's still in her robes and you haven't said anything."

"No more talking!" said a nearby prefect sharply. He was that one Weasley whose name Gabriel could never remember. "It'll be lights-out soon."

As he spoke, the candles abruptly flickered and went out, casting darkness over the hall. With the ceiling overhead lit by starlight, it was almost like being outside.

Gabriel lay awake, pretending to sleep in hopes of catching part of a conversation if one of the teachers happened to come by. As luck would have it, someone did, at around three in the morning.

Dumbledore swept by, walking towards the Gryffindor prefect. "How have things gone here?"

"All well, sir. Nothing out of place. Any sign of him, sir?"

"No, unfortunately. But it's good that all is well here. There's no point in getting them all back to their dorms now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole - you can move back in tomorrow."

"And what about the Fat Lady, sir?"

"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the third floor. She's understandably scared - I'll have Filch restore her once she's calmed down."

Another set of footsteps came up. "Severus. Have you located Black?"

"No, headmaster. He's not in the dungeons, nor the third floor."

"And what of the Astronomy Tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The owlery?"

"Not there either. Headmaster, if I may be so bold - I spoke to you at the beginning of term-"

"I remember, Severus."

There was a beat of silence.

"Then you do remember what I said about-"

"Severus," there was a warning note in Dumbledore's voice. "I do not believe that anyone in this castle helped Black to enter." He said it in such a way that even Snape could tell that the conversation was over.

There was another moment of silence.

"I must inform the dementors," Dumbledore said. "They asked to be told if we had found Black."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" the prefect spoke again.

"Oh, yes," Dumbledore said coldly. "But no dementor will cross the threshold while I am headmaster."

After that, there was only the sound of footsteps fading away. Gabriel opened his eyes slightly and saw Snape, a figure only slightly blacker than his surroundings. He stood still for several moments before turning and walking away as well.

_ What was that about? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh...suspicous. Comment, please!


	24. The Marauder's Map

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we move forwards, again. This chapter's a little short and a little abrupt, but I'm moving quickly to get to the more important stuff.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Sirius Black's breaking into Hogwarts was the subject of pretty much every discussion outside the classroom after that night. There was all sorts of speculation as to how he got in, which grew more and more ridiculous as time wore on. One of the Hufflepuffs told anyone who stopped to listen that Black could turn into a flowering shrub.

While the others weren't quite as far-fetched, they weren't much better. Some said he'd teleported himself in, or Apparated, as wizards called it. Some said he'd flown in. Others said he'd disguised himself.

The other problem with the break-in was that Gabriel was now being watched closely, as everyone was convinced that he needed protecting. Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with him. There was always  _ someone  _ at the other end of the hallway. And the Ravenclaw prefects were now (rather obviously) tailing him.

He never brought it up, of course, but Gabriel took every chance he could to dodge his watchers, even if it did take a little Grace.

Hermione was only frustrated by the rumors which were going around, as Gabriel hadn't mentioned the watchers to her or Michael. 

"Honestly," she said in a huff one night. "Am I the only one who's read Hogwarts, A History?"

"Probably," Michael said as ne frowned at nir essay. "Do moonstones help dream potions?"

"No, they're never used as ingredients."

"Thanks."

"Speaking of homework-" Gabriel glanced over at Hermione, who was surrounded by tall stacks of books and parchment everywhere. "How are you doing all of that?"

"I manage," said Hermione distractedly. "Harry, aren't you suppose to be working on our Ancient Runes homework?"

"Our what?" Gabriel checked a scrap of paper he’d written assignments down on. “Oh, that. I finished it. And don’t change the subject. You look like you’re trying to barricade yourself off from the rest of the library.”

“I am not,” Hermione huffed. “Can’t I want to do well on this? Besides, you’re the one always taking out strange books when you think we’re not looking.”

Gabriel blinked in surprise. “I - what? No I don’t. And that doesn’t have anything to do with what I asked.”

“Yes, you do,” Michael objected. “You go off and read all sorts of things with long titles. What’s that all about, anyway?”

“None of your business,” Gabriel said automatically, and winced internally. Yeah, that would  _ really  _ get them off his case. “I’m just curious about stuff. It’s nothing important, I just pick books at random and read them.”

“Why do you always hide it, then?”

“It’s embarrassing.” The lie flew off his tongue automatically, and Gabriel rolled with it. “Everyone expects me to know things about the wizarding world just because my parents were magical, even though I never knew them and might as well be Muggleborn for all the experience I had with magic before coming here.”

Gabriel looked down at the table, for the added touch. “Everyone forgets I didn’t grow up with this stuff except you two, and that’s only because you didn’t either. I guess I’m just trying to catch up.”

“...Oh.” Michael looked slightly abashed. “Well. Alright, then. But we wouldn’t have made fun of you.”

“I know. It was stupid.” Crisis averted, Gabriel breathed an internal sigh of relief. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to deal with that again.

* * *

 

It took only a few weeks for the Sirius Black news to have a contender for the position of ‘cause of increasingly escalating tension within Hogwarts’. There was an upcoming Quidditch match which everyone was looking forward to, and though Ravenclaw wasn't playing they seemed just as excited.

It was the day before the match and Gabriel was arguing with Michael as they walked to Defense. They were already late, slowed down by the crowds and the fact that they'd only been on their way once Michael had gone back and gotten his book.

"I'm not going."

"Harry, you've refused to attend a single match! Please?"

"Michael, have you  _ looked  _ outside recently?" Rain was pelting down on the school and the winds made the windows rattle. "I'm surprised they haven't cancelled it, with this weather!"

" Come on, Harry, it's just a game."

"I'm not getting soaked for your favorite game, Michael." Gabriel yanked open the door to the Defense class a bit harder than he should have, and everyone already inside looked up.

Snape was sitting behind Lupin's desk.

"You're late, Potter, Corner," he said coldly. "Ten points from Ravenclaw. Sit down."

"Where's Professor Lupin?" Michael asked.

"Professor Lupin is ill and asked me to take over his classes while he is unable to teach. Sit down, or it will be another ten points."

Slowly, Michael sank into the nearest seat. Gabriel took the one on the other side and wondered why Lupin had asked Snape of all people to substitute when they obviously disliked each other.

"Professor Lupin has not left any directions on where you left off," Snape continued, sneering. "As it is, I shall-"

"Sir, we've just started red caps-"

"Sit down, Miss Fawcett. I was not asking for an answer, I was merely remarking on his incompetency." Gabriel's eyebrows raised higher at that. He'd expected Snape to at least be subtle about how much he hated Lupin.

The rest of the lesson did not go any better. Snape sneered his way through orders to turn to page three hundred and ninety-four and learn about werewolves.  _ Very subtle. _

At the end of the period he assigned two rolls on the proper ways to identify and kill werewolves, which had everyone complaining, and Gabriel thought it was a bit odd how no one commented on being forced to learn how to kill werewolves.

Was the magical world really like that of the hunters? Did they hunt down magical creatures to the point where how to kill them became common knowledge? If so, the presence of ghosts in the castle became even odder.

Of course, Gabriel had no time to think over this. There was something else on his mind, and it was far more pressing. Literally.

The signal from Balthazar had been strong, but subtle. As soon as the Quidditch match started, Gabriel slipped off to answer it. It had been a subtle press earlier, and then a push, and by the time he answered it was a full-blown headache.

_ What do you want?  _ He asked irritably, sending the message over angel radio. No one would recognize it as being from him save Balthazar, due to his reduced Grace.

**_I've gotten into a bit of a jam._ **

_ What have you done now. _

**_I may have teamed up with the Winchesters._ **

_ You what?! _

**_Don't be like that. Anyway, I know I explained the whole 'Castiel and Crowley' thing to you over the summer._ **

_ Yeah. I'm not getting involved. _ Gabriel hadn’t liked the news then, and he didn’t like it now.

**_I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to keep an eye on me since I'm not sure whether or not Castiel will actually kill me._ **

_ Castiel. Kill you. _

**_You're not here, Gabriel. Things have gone much farther south._ **

_ Show me. _

Balthazar did.

_ Holy shit. _

**_See what I'm worried about?_ **

_ You didn't say they were going after PURGATORY. Was that not important? _

**_Look, hear me out-_ **

_ I suppose I can snap up a double for you to send instead. _

**_What?_ **

_ Go back to the place in London, I'll send a fake-you instead. Where should he go? _

Balthazar gave him the impression of a location.

_ Got it. Go on, get out of America for a while. Hell, get out of the universe. This might be you faking your death. _

**_Fine._ **

_ Also, before you go- _

**_What?_ **

_ Lend me some Grace. _

**_What?!_ **

_ You think it's going to be easy sending this thing between universes? I don't have enough energy! _

**_So you want to borrow mine?_ **

_ You can just give me a boost. Come one, you can get that Grace back EASILY. Me? Not so much. _

He could feel the reluctance on Balthazar's end.

_ Would you like to go talk to Castiel yourself? _

**_...No._ **

_ Work with me here, Balthazar. _

**_FINE._ ** There was a surge of resentment, along with a swell of Grace. It was probably very little of Balthazar's power, but it would be enough. Gabriel sighed, the feeling itchy with unfamiliarity but far closer than he’d ever been to his usual power supply.

_ See you next summer. _ Gabriel cut off the 'radio' connection before Balthazar could reply, frowning at nothing in the empty common room. Despite the weather, absolutely everyone was down in the stands.

_ Ah, well. I suppose I can use this much. _

Drawing from the well of power inside him, and the slightly smaller one the Balthazar had given, Gabriel snapped his fingers.

Instantly a copy of Balthazar appeared in front of him. Balthazar 2 frowned as Gabriel winced and bent over slightly. Luckily, the conjuration hadn't taken quite as much out of him as he'd expected, but that didn't mean it hadn't taken a lot.

He told the fake Balthazar where to go, and it popped off with the usual flutter of wings that might accompany real Balthazar's flight. Gabriel sat back and waited for everyone to return, prodding moodily at his Grace. It didn't seem like it was coming back anytime soon.

It turned out to be an especially good thing that he'd never gone to the match.

Dementors had, apparently, descended on the stands. The game had been hurriedly drawn to a close, and when Michael returned with everyone else it was with a drawn face and slight shakiness.

"See, this is why I never go to matches." Gabriel snapped the book closed as Michael finished explaining what had happened. "Where would I be if you'd actually convinced me?"

Michael seemed only partially convinced. "You couldn't have known that was going to happen."

"No, but the thing is, I didn't go and avoided the dementors. If I had gone-"

"You're going to refuse to attend the matches because of the dementors?"

"Maybe."

"Harry..."

* * *

 

Gabriel contacted Balthazar that night.

**_What do you want?_ **

_ I wouldn't go back to that Earth anytime soon. _

**_Why?_ **

_ Your double's dead. _

**_Ah. So Castiel actually did it?_ **

_ Hell if I know. That took a lot out of me, you know. The only reason I know it's dead is because I suddenly got some of that mojo back. _

**_I would assume._ ** It was quiet on Balthazar's end for a moment.  **_Thank you, Gabriel._ **

Was Balthazar actually being sincere?  _...You're welcome, I guess.  _ Gabriel felt a swell of warmth. He was glad he’d helped Balthazar avoid an undue end, and even gladder for the return of his relationship with one of his old fledglings. It made old family arguments a little more tolerable to think about.

A twisting sense of something going wrong nagged at the back of his mind. Gabriel frowned, recognizing it. He’d been feeling it on and off all year. If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was time travel, but normally he only got that feeling when he’d crossed over his own timeline, and he was in no shape to be doing that now. 

It was annoying, but not particularly worrying. Whatever was happening would sort itself out, probably, and with his Grace as it was Gabriel decided it was none of his business.

* * *

 

A couple weeks before Christmas break was due to start, the bad weather abruptly ended. The sun could finally be seen, and everything outside was covered in a layer of shining frost. Students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays - except for Michael and Hermione.

Hermione insisted that she needed to use the library for an Arithmancy project, and Michael said that nir cousin was spending Christmas at nir house and ne didn't want to spend two weeks around him, but it was blindingly obvious to Gabriel that they were staying to keep him company. Unlike last year, he didn't protest and simply pretended that he believed their excuses.

There was another Hogsmeade trip right before break began, to Gabriel's disappointment. The one way to ruin the holiday for him was to show him something he was forbidden from, and Hogsmeade was still a bitter disappointment. It should have been so  _ easy  _ for him to get out to the village. He shouldn’t have been constrained by school rules in the first place.

"Sorry," Michael said sympathetically. "I'll bring back a load of candy for you again, I forgot the Pepper Imps last time.."

But even the promise of candy couldn't substitute actually going to the village.

* * *

 

"Psst!"

Gabriel whipped around. There was no one behind him. The hallway was totally empty.

"Pssssssst!"

It was coming from a nearby classroom. As Gabriel walked closer, two pairs of hands reached out and dragged him inside.

"What the-"

One of the Weasley twins shut the door as the other stood in front of Gabriel, grinning.

"Harry," said the one by the door. Probably Fred. "How are you, this wonderful Christmas holiday eve?"

"Wondering why I've been dragged into an abandoned classroom,” Gabriel said flatly, but his mouth twitched into a smile without his input. “What are you two doing?”

"Ah," said George happily, "We thought we'd give you a bit of festive cheer!"

"Something to keep in the spirit of this giving season-"

"Not like we need it any more-"

"We've memorized it completely-"

"So we're giving it to you," finished George, whipping a blank piece of parchment out of his robes. “Out of the goodness of our hearts!”

Gabriel raised one eyebrow. "You're giving me a blank bit of paper?"

"A blank bit of paper?" Fred clutched his chest. "Blasphemy!"

"This parchment," said George, waving it in front of Gabriel's face, "Has taught us more about Hogwarts than any book ever did. When we were young and innocent-"

"I highly doubt you were ever innocent," said Gabriel, "And please, spare the discovery story. What's it do?"

The twins glanced at each other. 

"Alright," they said at the same time, looking back at Gabriel.

"Here you are."

"The workings of the parchment."

"Just tap it with your wand and say-"

" 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good'. "  Fred's wand was on the paper as he spoke. Ink started snaking out from it, scarlet lines connecting and forming letters and a drawing of a castle that looked suspiciously like Hogwarts.

_ Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs _

_ are proud to present _

_ THE MARAUDER'S MAP _

Gabriel unfolded the paper, which had suddenly grown several layers. It was indeed a map of Hogwarts, but that wasn't the only thing. Tiny, ink footsteps were making their way around the school. Gabriel watched incredulously as a pair labeled 'Albus Dumbledore' walked in circles in his office. An even tinier set of pawprints showed Mrs. Norris walking around on the fourth floor. Gabriel's eyes darted to where they stood now, and he hastily folded the map back up before either of the twins could look over his shoulder and see that he had no label.

There was something else he had seen. Just outside the room the three of them were in, there was a passage which led-

"All of them, straight to Hogsmeade," said Fred, satisfied. "This map's got every single passage in the school on it. Now, four of them we're sure Filch knows about, and there's one on the fifth floor that caved in ages ago. And no one uses the one on the grounds since it's right underneath the Whomping Willow, but this one-"

"Right outside this room," George took over. "Goes right into Honeydukes."

"What do you think about that, eh?"

Gabriel let a slow, broad grin spread over his face.

* * *

 

The tunnel was obviously meant for someone a bit bigger than Gabriel was at the moment, as it had enough room for him to stretch out both arms before they hit the wall. It was very smoothly carved - someone must have used magic to get it like this. It was also very dark, and Gabriel had to light his wand to see where he was going.

The twins were as good as their word and handed it over with no demands for its return, luckily for Gabriel, who had finally been proved wrong after the past two years of lamenting the lack of a map of the huge castle.

The tunnel twisted around on itself, more like a rabbit warren than a proper tunnel, and it went on for ages. Eventually, the ground underneath his feet began to rise, and Gabriel sped up slightly.

He came to some worn stone steps, which rose out of sight. It took almost as long to climb the stairs as it had to get to them - and then Gabriel had to stop abruptly to stop himself hitting his head.

He was standing directly underneath some sort of trapdoor. Beyond it, he could hear distant chatter, and the faint ding of a bell. Testing it, the trapdoor rose easily, but Gabriel hurriedly closed it again as someone came down the stairs.

A woman's voice yelled down and heavy footsteps moved around for several minutes before retreating again. Raising the door a crack and peering out, Gabriel saw someone climb to the top of a set of stairs and disappear. Hoisting himself out, Gabriel discovered that he was in some sort of store room. He hurried over to the stairs and brought himself quickly to the top, ducking out of the way behind the counter in front of him until he got to the end.

Gabriel stood up straight.

The shop was swarming with Hogwarts students, and no one paid any attention to one more. Gabriel ducked away from the counter and found himself in between two humongous barrels of sweets - one was full of some sort of jawbreaker-like candy, and the other piled high with the familiar Chocolate Frog packages.

"This shop is amazing."

Another turn around provided a view of Michael and Hermione, standing underneath a display labeled 'Unusual Tastes'. Ron was with them, too, to all appearances. Gabriel went closer, squeezing through the crowd until he was near enough to hear their conversation.

"Urgh, Michael, don't get him those, they're for vampires I expect."

"What about these?" Asked Ron, shoving a jar of some clumpy brown thing into view.

"Definitely not," said Gabriel.

Ron nearly dropped the jar as Hermione whirled around. Michael gaped at him. 

"Harry!" ne said. "What are you doing here?"

"Have you learned to Apparate?" Ron asked, looking impressed.

"No," Gabriel said, grinning at their incredulous expressions. "Just had a bit of help."

"A bit of help?" Hermione said. "Harry, what about Sirius Black?"

"I really doubt he's going to be in Hogsmeade in the middle of the day."

"Well-"

Michael butted in. "What about that sign on the door?" Ne asked Hermione. "The dementors are patrolling here all night, I don't think Black's going to be anywhere near Hogsmeade."

Hermione looked conflicted. "But what if-"

"Plus," Ron added, jumping on Gabriel's side, "Look at the weather!" Snow was swirling around, creating a thick white almost-blizzard to get through. "He's not gonna be out and about in this kind of snow."

"I suppose." Hermione still looked torn between telling him to go back to Hogwarts and letting Gabriel come. "But what sort of help did you have?"

"A map." Gabriel grinned as their expressions grew even more confused. "Apparently, there is one after all."

* * *

 

"How come Fred and George never told  _ me  _ about this? I'm their brother!"

* * *

 

The Three Broomsticks was much warmer after the bitter chill of the street, and the group pushed in gratefully. Ron volunteered to go get drinks as they all found a table, Gabriel scooting over to be closer to the window.

Hermione had to be convinced that the map wasn't some sort of evil device to lure Gabriel out of Hogwarts and into Sirius Black's hands, though Gabriel understood where she was coming from. She was worried. Of course, this was taking it a bit too far, as Hermione was usually more logical than this.

A tray full of butterbeers was plonked onto the table and Ron slid into the seat next to Michael. "Drink up, yeah?" He'd brought one for each of them, and Gabriel took a sip of one. It was nice and warm, and pleasantly flavored, as opposed to regular beer. He developed an immediate fondness for it.

"Awesome," Michael said, grinning, before the bell over the door of the pub tinkled and Gabriel had only a glimpse of McGonagall and someone in an eye-wateringly green bowler hat before someone pushed him under the table. Gabriel steadied the drink in his hand to keep it from sloshing all over him. A moment later, the Christmas tree next to their table slowly moved over so that no one might glance under and see him.

A pair of glittery heels tapped over to the table once all the teachers had sat down (Hagrid the groundskeeper must have been with them, no one else had feet that big) and began handing out drinks as she spoke.

"Thank you," said someone unfamiliar once she was done. "Fetch yourself one and sit down, why don't you, Rosmerta?"

"Well, thank you, Minister."  _ Minister? As in the same guy who thought dementors would be a good idea? _

The heels left and came back, disappearing behind the edge of the booth Gabriel was hiding under. 'Rosmerta' must have sat down.

"So what brings you this far north, Minister?"

"What else? Sirius Black, of course."

"Oh, yes, I heard about that."

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" McGonagall said despairingly. There was a bit of shuffling around before Rosmerta spoke again.

"You don't think he's still up here, do you Minister?"

"I'm sure of it," said the Minister shortly.

"But wouldn't he have moved on?" An edge came into Rosmerta's voice. "You know dementors have searched my pub twice now. Scared away all the customers."

"Er, yes...a necessary precaution. They were in a fury, of course, that he escaped."

"Well, Black's quite dangerous, isn't he?"

"Oh yes, but the worst he did isn't quite as widely known."

"Worse than murdering a street full of Muggles?"

The Minister lowered his voice. "I'm afraid so."

Gabriel stayed under the table, listening intently as the Minister told the story. Lupin had already given him the bare basics, but the Minister's story held much more detail. For instance, Gabriel hadn't known that Sirius Black had been named Harry Potter's godfather. Or that there had been a suspicion of a spy for nearly a year before that Halloween.

Hagrid burst out emotionally as they were describing the scene of the destroyed house, which Gabriel actually remembered (so that was who that weird guy on the lawn had been) and had to be hurriedly shushed. Gabriel was sure that at least some people were looking over at them by now, and wondered why the teachers hadn't made more of an effort to be quiet.

Gabriel frowned at their description of how Pettigrew had been found. A heap of robes? If the spell had blown him to bits, then why were his robes intact? Magic was weird.

The people in the table left with a clatter and still as a group. Rosmerta's sparkly shoes went back towards the bar while everyone else went for the door, and Gabriel was left still under the table.

"Harry?"

Hermione, Michael, and Ron were all peering down at him, lost for words.

* * *

 

The trip back to the castle seemed to go much faster than the trip there. It was ridiculously easy to sneak back into the Honeydukes cellar and find the right tile, pry it up and get back into the tunnel. The statue of the humpbacked witch opened onto a deserted corridor when Gabriel got back into the school, and he hopped out easily.

His friends were probably expecting him to be emotionally traumatized by the story but really, it wasn't that bad. If he'd actually been Harry Potter he probably would have been quite upset.

As it was, however, it was like hearing a story about something bad that had happened to the neighbors which lived several blocks away from you. Maybe the story would make you a little sympathetic, you might send them a card, but it certainly wouldn't put you in the mood to go hunting down serial killers or whoever might have made them feel that way.

Even more simply put, Gabriel didn't care. The Potters were his vessel's parents, not his.

Michael watched him warily through dinner, though ne didn't say anything since they were surrounded by people. Ne didn't talk to Gabriel that night either, as Gabriel had gone to bed early to avoid just that.

When Gabriel woke up the next morning, he almost thought he had been dreaming.

Which was absurd, of course.

Angels didn't  _ dream. _

But there was still the lingering feeling that he had forgotten something, a tint of strangeness lingering in the corners of his mind, which no matter how hard he tried Gabriel couldn't forget.

Michael was waiting for him when he came downstairs.

"Hey," Ne said, turning around towards the staircase. Ne had obviously been waiting.

"Morning." Gabriel flopped down on one of the sofas. "Where is everyone?"

"It's the first day of break," Michael reminded him.

"Right. You stayed this year."

Michael was silent for a moment. When Gabriel looked over at nem, ne took a deep breath and blurted out "Don'tgoafterSiriusBlack!"

"D'you mind repeating that a little slower than mach five?" Gabriel said, rubbing his eyes and sitting a little straighter. 

"Don't go after Sirius Black, I know you might be mad-"

"Michael-"

"And I talked with Hermione and Ron and they agree and it would be really dangerous-"

"Michael-"

"And you wouldn't do anything you'd probably just get really hurt and then Black would run away again-"

"Michael! I'm not planning to go after him!"

"What?" Michael finally stopped talking.

"I already knew. Lupin told me."

"He  _ what _ ?" Michael looked surprised. "Why would he do that?"

"I asked him."

"And he just told you?"

"Well, we were sort of trading off questions." Gabriel explained how Lupin had offered the game to find out more about his boggart, which made Michael shift around as though ne were itching to ask about that as well. Fortunately, though, ne stayed silent.

"So...you're not mad?"

No. "I've worked through it. Lupin wouldn't let me leave until he was sure I wouldn't." Gabriel felt bad lying to Michael, but what was he supposed to say? 'I don't actually care because they're not my parents'?

Michael looked slightly like ne thought Gabriel might be lying, but ne didn't call him out on it, for which Gabriel was thankful.

He'd have a hell of a time convincing Hermione, though.

* * *

 

Christmas day broke with Gabriel being shaken awake again. Michael pulled him down to the common room, where a small evergreen with a pile of presents underneath it and Hermione waited.

"They're all down here," Michael said excitedly. "Whoever brought them must have known we would all get together. Even  _ Hermione's  _ are here."

"Merry Christmas," Hermione greeted them when they got close enough. "Here, Harry, this one's yours."

"Thanks." It was a box of toothflossing stringmints and a pack of Pokemon cards. "Where's you get these?"

"My cousin had a bunch of old ones," Hermione explained. "They might be a little worn but she had a bunch of rare ones."

"Nice." Gabriel pointed at a package wrapped in bright silver paper. "That one looks like it has your name on it."

It seemed like no time at all before there was wrapping paper discarded everywhere and presents uncovered. Gabriel had been given a sweater and an assortment of food by Mrs. Weasley, who seemed determined to mother him. Michael had bought him a book on runes.

"For your class," he explained, and though he didn't really need the extra translation half of the book offered Gabriel kept it anyway. He'd also received a Quidditch poster from Ron (which he didn't put up; the thing was neon orange) and even another present from Draco: a quill with a silver nib and a green feather. 

"Awesome," said Michael, admiring the second Pokemon figurine Gabriel had given nem. "What's this one called?"

"It's an Eevee."

"You're sure these aren't actual creatures?" Michael laughed. “I mean, given all the stuff in Care of Magical Creatures.”

"Very sure,” Gabriel said, smiling. “Unless some Japanese magician gets very creative with his Transfiguration.”

“That sounds like it could be a good story.”

“My whole life could be a good story,” Gabriel said, and then put the thought away so he wouldn’t think about how true that sentence was.

* * *

 

Lunch was a bit of a subdued affair. Most people had gone home, and so the only students at the table were Gabriel, Hermione, Michael, a sullen-looking Slytherin girl, and two nervous first-years. The teachers were all there as well, the staff and three other students seated around a single long table. The four usual tables were missing.

"Welcome!" Dumbledore beamed. "Since there are so few of us this year I thought it would be better to forgo the House tables - please, sit down."

The three of them did, the Slytherin barely scooting over to make room.

"Crackers!" Dumbledore said enthusiastically, offering Snape a silver one. The Potions master pulled it with barely concealed distaste, and when it exploded it revealed a witch's hat topped with a stuffed vulture. Snape's lip curled and everyone at the table suddenly remembered Neville Longbottom’s boggart story, which had Gabriel barely restraining giggles. Snape pushed it towards Dumbledore, who swapped it for his own hat at once.

The doors creaked open and surprisingly enough, Trelawney entered. She was wearing a green dress which made her look a bit like a giant insect, and the glasses didn't help.

"Sybil," said McGonagall, slightly dryly. "What a surprise."

"I was gazing into my crystal ball," said Trelawney in her usual misty voice, "When I saw myself descending to join you all, and who am I to resist the call of fate itself?"

"I see," said Dumbledore kindly, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the hat he was still wearing. "Well, come and sit down then!"

Trelawney looked at the table and gave a kind of soft scream. "I dare not, Headmaster! If I join there will be thirteen! When thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

"I think we'll be fine," said McGonagall.

Trelawney took a breath lowered herself into the seat with the air of someone waiting for an explosion. Nothing happened.

McGonagall offered her a tray. "Turkey, Sybil?"

Lunch proceeded without any sort of fanfare, Dumbledore's hat being really the only noteworthy bit. Really, it was kind of a dreadful hat, but the headmaster seemed to like it. Gabriel wondered if he wasn't a bit mad, and then wondered why he hadn't asked himself that before.

When the plates had been cleared away, Gabriel was first to stand. Trelawney gasped and looked at him, horrified.

"My dear! I had warned of the consequences - I fear that now you may not have long left!"

"Right." Out of everyone at the table, Gabriel was practically guaranteed to live the longest. He left the hall, not bothering with the Divination teacher. He'd long ago decided that there was no way she was actually psychic and had done the bare minimum for the class, hoping that if he failed out of it he could switch to a different one next year.

* * *

 

Lupin was in his office the next day when Gabriel checked.

"Oh - hello, Harry. Was there something you wanted?"

"Sort of." Something had occurred to Gabriel the other night. "You used a spell to ward off the dementor on the train, right?"

Lupin slowly put down his mug. "Yes, I did."

"What spell?"

"It's called the Patronus charm. It's very advanced, even adult wizards have a hard time doing it-"

"What's the incantation?"

Lupin pressed his lips together, as if thinking about what he was going to say. "Would you like me to teach you?"

Gabriel was startled by the offer, but he didn't let it show. "How?"

"Well, we couldn't get a real dementor, of course..." Lupin frowned. "I suppose you could just practice until you can do the spell, but then there's no guarantee that it will hold up in front of a real dementor..."

"That sounds fine. When?"

Lupin seemed surprised that he had agreed so easily. "Well - not now, but maybe...the first one could be sometime during break...perhaps next weekend?"

"Alright. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, please!


	25. Quidditch and Trelawney's Prediction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're really getting somewhere now! I tried slipping in a little foreshadowing for later events in this chapter, but it might not be immediately obvious...and by later events, I don't mean canon ones.

Patronus lessons were, as Lupin promised, before the end of break. Gabriel showed up at his office a couple days later after receiving a note saying to come over.

"Ah, Harry." Lupin was standing in center of the room. "Please, come in."

Gabriel did so, kicking the door closed behind him. "So we're just practicing the spell?"

"Exactly. I doubt you'd want to go outside and practice on a real dementor..." Lupin cleared his throat. "Anyway. This is very advanced magic, Harry, beyond a lot of adult wizards-"

"You mentioned that yesterday."

"Right. The Patronus Charm acts as a sort of shield between you and the dementors, protecting you from their influence." Gabriel felt a pang of disappointment that it wasn't an offensive spell. “It usually takes the shape of an animal."

"What kind of animal?"

"That depends on the caster. The Patronus is also similar to the riddikulus charm - it is based on positive emotions, which the dementor cannot feed upon. In this case, the caster focuses on a happy memory, which powers the spell."

"Ah." That might be a bit difficult.

Lupin didn't seem to notice anything. "The incantation is this -  _ expecto patronum.  _ Got that?"

"Yeah - expecto patronum."

"Try it. Find a happy memory, something that could power a Patronus, a  _ really _ happy one." Tall order, considering Gabriel's past.

"Alright, give me a minute." Gabriel frowned, casting his mind back for anything that could power this spell. Something really happy.

His time in the Norse pantheon was immediately discarded, as even though there were some moments that might have worked they would immediately be overrun with sadder memories. There were some moments farther back, but they weren't enough to power a spell like this. Gabriel needed something big.

_ Something  _ had to work.

"Okay," Gabriel said after several more moments. "I've got one." A minor misadventure with Hermes and another friend from about two hundred years ago - it was happy enough. He’d certainly had fun during it.

"Good," said Lupin, who looked slightly relieved. Gabriel must have taken longer than he'd thought finding a good memory. "Now - keep that feeling very firmly in your mind, and cast the spell whenever you're ready."

Cementing the memory in his mind and batting away any other thoughts that tried to nose in, Gabriel pointed his wand forward. "Expecto patronum!"

Something vaguely silver shot out out of the end. It was a very small wisp. Gabriel frowned at it.

"It's not going to work if you're scowling like that," Lupin said gently. "Try again - maybe try a different memory? The one you're using might not be strong enough."

Not strong enough? Gabriel racked his mind for something else he might be able to use.

Maybe...going farther back would work.

Way back.

When there were four archangels, and not just three.

"Expecto patronum!"

The wisp was larger this time, but it still had no definite shape. It was a bright silver, gleaming in the dim room.

"Excellent!" said Lupin. He seemed surprised. "Well, I have to say, I didn't expect you to get it on the first try...this is certainly excellent progress." He peered at Gabriel. "You're sure your magic is alright? A spell like this might take a little much out of you."

"I feel fine." It was getting very irritating that this year had provoked so many incidents where Gabriel had to reassure others of how he felt.

"If you're sure..." Lupin paused. "Even so, I'd like you to hold off on practicing it on your own."

"Sure." Yeah, right.

"You've made  _ wonderful _ progress, though, Harry... go ahead give it one more try."

* * *

 

Gabriel came back to the common room half an hour later. He hadn't managed to get the animal part of his patronus quite yet, but he was sure he had made out a wing. Figured that it would be some sort of bird.

But he was distracted almost immediately by something that had been nagging at him for ages. There had been a very faint trace of Grace lingering around in the back of his mind ever since shortly after his last conversation with Balthazar, and it had been growing steadily stronger. Gabriel was determined to figure out what it was, but the fact that it was getting stronger practically did the work for him, and the result hit him as he entered the common room.

Gabriel nearly staggered under the huge energy signal. It washed over him quickly, leaving only a trace behind, and Gabriel felt slightly sick as he realized what it meant.

It had been getting stronger because it was coming from somewhere - one of the other Earths. And Gabriel knew it only all too well.

Only one thing put out an flare that passed so quickly like that. If it had been a regular angel, maybe the flare wouldn't have reached quite this far. But if it had-

That meant Raphael was dead.

And Gabriel was the last living archangel.

* * *

 

The end of break came quickly, and with it the return of all his classmates. Gabriel put on his usual cheerful demeanor, telling himself that he didn't care if Raphael was dead and technically Michael was still alive.

Just locked up in Hell with Lucifer.

But no one saw into his internal debate, and besides, the air was thick with excitement for  _ another  _ Quidditch game. Ravenclaw was playing, which meant that the entire House was looking forward to it and yes, Gabriel did have to come because he'd refused to go to all the other games and the dementors weren't going to come to this one because now the headmaster knew to forbid them.

"What, and they listen to him?"

Either way, Gabriel somehow found himself sitting in the Ravenclaw stands the day of the game. He couldn't even use the excuse of weather, because it was sunny, if a bit chilly out.

Hermione had been rather subdued as they walked down to the pitch. Apparently, she and Ron had gotten into a huge fight after Crookshanks had, supposedly, killed Ron's rat - or at least that was what Ron was saying. Hermione was insisting that Crookshanks hadn't done anything.

Honestly, Gabriel didn't care about the pets, but Ron was now being so nasty to Hermione that he wondered whether he shouldn't give the boy another nightmare. Honestly, all this over a rat?

A whistle blew shrilly and fifteen people rose into the air, Hooch staying right in front of the tower which held the teacher's seats. There was a boy with dreadlocks sitting next to McGonagall, and he was speaking into a large megaphone.

"And they're off, lots of tension this match, next one versus Hufflepuff will be the match for the cup! The Quaffle is being tossed around fast as a Snitch but Spinnet of Gryffindor gains possession, what an excellent Chaser that girl is-"

"Jordan!"

"Sorry, Professor."

"Is he always like that?" Gabriel asked Michael, who was grinning.

"Yeah, Lee Jordan always commentates. Professor McGonagall's constantly yelling at him to get back on task."

"Katie Bell speeding towards the Ravenclaw goalposts - she shoots - YES!"

There was a groan from the Ravenclaws around them that was nearly drowned in cheering from the Gryffindor end.

"What?"

"They scored."

"I can't see anything, we're too low down," Gabriel grumbled. The players were scarlet and blue figures, constantly moving around the pitch so it was difficult to tell who was who.

"Harry..."

"Fine. I'm watching the game. I also have no idea what's going on."

"You could have asked me to explain." Michael descended into a mess of talking, pointing out positions and players and balls as Gryffindor scored several more times. Ravenclaw got a couple of shots in as far as Gabriel could tell, but he wasn't listening to the commentary and instead just watched the players fly around. Broomsticks went fairly fast, it seemed.

The game ended when two of the players, a Ravenclaw with jet-black hair and a Gryffindor, both went shooting after a tiny gold ball which had been flitting around the pitch the entire time. One of them managed to catch it and the entire Gryffindor side exploded, while the people around Gabriel slumped in their seats.

"What?"

"Gryffindor just won," Michael said moodily.

"What, because they caught that ball?"

"You could see the snitch?"

"I don't understand this game at all."

* * *

 

"What's going on?"

"No idea."

Gabriel sat up irritably when the hoarse whispers became too much to ignore. "Do you mind? It's the middle of the night!"

The other boys in the dorm looked over at him all at the same time. 

"Something's happened," Anthony said. "The prefects all went downstairs just now and Flitwick's down there too, listen."

Faint voices were drifting up the staircase from the common room. Curious, Gabriel swung out of bed and went over to the door.

"What are you doing?" hissed someone else, but Gabriel crept out of the doorway and to a point on the stairs where he could hear what was going on.

"...in again?!"

"I'm afraid so. We're searching the castle, but you must make sure that no one leaves the tower."

"Yes, sir."

"How did Black get in?"

"We don't know. If you'll excuse me, I have to go help the rest of the professors. Davies, make sure everyone's here."

"Of course, sir."

Gabriel hurried backwards as footsteps came up the stairs.

"What is it?" asked Anthony as he came back in.

"Sirius Black again."

"He broke in  _ again? _ " There was a chorus of alarmed murmurs.

"Must have. Flitwick sounded spooked."

The door creaked open and one of the prefects poked his head in, relaxing slightly when he saw all four of them. 

"Get to bed," he whispered, pointing at Gabriel and then at his bed. "You've got classes tomorrow."

No one made a move to go to their beds until well after the prefect had left.

* * *

 

It turned out that Sirius Black had broken in again, and once again gone to Gryffindor tower. But more than that - this time, he'd gotten in and (according to the story going around) nearly killed Ron Weasley before Ron woke up and alerted everyone else.

Evidence of tighter security could be seen everywhere. Flitwick was spotted teaching the front doors to recognize a large picture of Black, and everything from cracks in the walls to mouse holes was being boarded up. According to Hermione, the guardian portrait had been sacked, and the Fat Lady returned to her place with a couple of security trolls.

Fortunately, the statue of the witch remained unguarded and totally free of any hindrance, which meant that Gabriel's path to Hogsmeade was clear.

Ron had become something of a celebrity, since it was he who had been attacked. He was perfectly willing to tell the story to anyone who wanted to hear it, and plenty of people did.

"I dunno why he just left, though," he remarked to Gabriel as they were partnered for a Transfiguration project. "I mean, if he'd got the wrong bed, why not just - you know-" Ron made a slicing motion across his throat, apparently unwilling to say it. "-And move on?"

"Well, you'd already woken your dormmates up, right?" Gabriel asked. "They'd start yelling and he'd have to kill the whole House to get out."

"I suppose," said Ron. "Poor Neville, though."

"What about him?"

Neville Longbottom, who was apparently notorious for forgetting the password into the tower, had written them all down to remember them, and Sirius Black had somehow gotten ahold of the list. Thus, Neville was in disgrace, and Gryffindor had been docked hundreds of points. He'd even gotten a screaming letter in the mail which was called a Howler.

"We'll never make the cup now," Ron had complained about the point loss. "Not even with the points we won from the game."

"I suppose you'd like me to be regretful about that," Gabriel said dryly.

“Wouldn’t hurt.” Ron glanced at him sideways. “You’re not too bad for a Ravenclaw, though.”

“I feel so flattered.”

* * *

 

Gabriel bumped into someone as he left the library. It was Hermione.

"Oh - sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going-" Hermione said hastily.

"Hermione, what the hell happened to you?" Her eyes were red, as if she'd been crying.

"Nothing, Harry, now can you-"

"No." Gabriel stretched out an arm to stop her getting in the library. "What on earth is going on? You look horrible."

"Harry, let me through, I've got stuff to look up-"

"Homework can wait-"

"No it can't!" Hermione shrieked at him.

"Hermione, you look like you've had a breakdown!"

She looked on the verge of tears, and Gabriel felt a stab of slight guilt. "Harry, please, I'm just trying to get everything done..."

"What's so important? Hermione, if you're crying over homework-"

"My classes are fine!" Hermione shoved past him and Gabriel let his arm fall because if he really tried to stop her then something was going to get broken. Instead, he followed her into the library.

"Hermione-"

"Leave me alone!"

"What is so important that you're sacrificing your health?"

Hermione almost slammer her books onto the table. "Harry, I can handle it! I've just got a lot of homework and then I was going to help Hagrid with his case-"

"How much-"

"I'm fine!"

"No, Hermione, you're obviously not!"

Hermione stared at him for a moment and then broke down.

Gabriel stared, slightly panicked, as Hermione started sniffling. "I'm sorry," she said. "I've just got so much to do..."

"Er-" Gabriel tried patting her shoulder. It didn't seem to help. "D'you want help?"

"I can do it," Hermione said tearfully. "I just need to calm down and do it."

"Hermione, you're going to drive yourself crazy." Gabriel looked properly at her bag, which was packed so full of books that it barely closed. "You're taking every single class they offer, you just don't have enough time!"

"I do," Hermione sniffed. "I just can't-"

"Everyone's got a limit! You're doing all this and, what, helping Hagrid with some sort of mystery?"

"It's his Hippogriff," Hermione informed him miserably. "It attacked one of the Slytherins on the first day and now they're trying to get it executed-"

"And all this on top of Ron refusing to speak to you?" Over a rat, really. Gabriel was definitely going to do something. "You should have asked Michael or me for help!"

"I can do it-'

"Hermione, you're sitting here with eleven classes' worth of homework plus a bunch of extra crap. That's too much for one person."

"I've been getting through it all year," Hermione said. "I can do it now-"

"Hermione," Gabriel said firmly. "Listen to me. I don't care how smart you are. I don't care how much of this homework gets done. You are trying to do too much. And your  _ schoolwork  _ is not more important than making sure you're okay."

"I'm fine-"

"Says the girl crying in front of me."

Hermione sniffed loudly. "I'll be okay, I just need to calm down-"

"You need to  _ rest." _

"No, I've got to finish this-"

"Hermione. You're going to end up exhausted if you try to keep doing this."

"Harry-"

"No." Gabriel moved in between Hermione and the table. "None of this is getting touched until you're okay."

Hermione stared at him incredulously. "Harry-"

"I will bring Madam Pomfrey into this if I have to."

"Harry, I'm not ill! Let me do my homework!"

" _ Hermione-" _

In the end, Gabriel did bring Madam Pomfrey into it.

* * *

 

Michael sat down next to at lunch that same day. "Where's Hermione?" ne asked. "I didn't see her yesterday."

"She's in the hospital wing," Gabriel told him. "She was freaking out because of all the homework she had so I dragged her up there to see if Madam Pomfrey could do something about how she’s been running herself ragged."

"What?" Michael looked astonished. "But - she seemed alright-"

"I don't think either of us have been paying very good attention this year." Gabriel might have been distracted with a multitude of things, but that didn't mean that he was allowed to ignore his friends.

Michael was frowning at nir plate. "Should we go visit?"

"If I visit she's going to try and curse me. So I'm not. But feel free."

* * *

 

The next weekend was a Hogsmeade weekend, but Gabriel didn't go down to the village. Instead, he stayed inside and practiced the Patronus charm. He  _ still  _ couldn't get it to form a shape, even though it was forming a very solid and bright silver smoke-shield-thing.

Hermione had finally left the hospital wing and she still wasn't speaking to Gabriel. Evidently, she still thought he had been unreasonable. Gabriel was also feeling a sort of itch everywhere, something that would fade over time and wasn't really an itch but just more of a sense of  _ wrongness  _ that would usually pop up around passing periods. Even though he’d been feeling it all year, it was worse than ever now, and he still couldn't figure out what was causing it when he ran into Lupin in the hallways.

Per Gabriel's usual luck, he had the Marauder's Map open when they did.

Both parties stumbled backwards slightly. "Oh, sorry, Harry, what - where did you get that?" Lupin’s eyes widened, and his tone sharpened.

"Nowhere," said Gabriel, hurriedly folding it up, but too late, Lupin had recognized it.   


"Harry, that's very dangerous-"

"It's a map!" Gabriel protested.

"Yes, I know." Lupin snatched it out of his hands. Gabriel was tempted to summon it back and run, but to Gabriel's surprise, Lupin muttered and tapped on the map, making the ink fade away.

"You know how to work it?"

"I knew the people who made it. We were in Hogwarts around the same time."

"Then-"

"Harry," Lupin said sternly. "Tell me you haven't been to Hogsmeade."

“What?” Gabriel made himself gape a little. “I - I thought about it, but I haven’t! Professor, come on, I’m not  _ stupid!  _ After everything you told me about Black?” Gabriel acted so shocked and offended at the accusation (even though he had) that Lupin actually backed up a little.

"Alright," Lupin put his hands up, map still held in one. "I'm sorry. I was just making sure."

"Can I have the map back, then?"

Lupin glanced down at it. "No," he decided. "I'm afraid that, as a teacher, it's something I can't let you have. Sorry, Harry."

He walked off down the hall.

Gabriel looked after him. He had really hoped that it wouldn't come to breaking into his office.

* * *

 

In the end, Gabriel decided that Lupin was still a decent teacher and the map really wasn't worth breaking into his office for, if he even kept it in there. Gabriel let it be and figured that if he really needed to he'd make his own map of Hogwarts. Besides, he already knew the way to Hogsmeade.

He hadn't seen Hermione in ages, though according to Ron she and Ron had finally made up, in a way, and stopped cold-shouldering each other.

"It was because of Hagrid," Ron told him. "He lost his case, you know, with Buckbeak-"

"The Hippogriff?"

"Yeah, 'cause there was this whole mess with the Slytherins - anyway he lost the case, and so we've only got the appeal to stop them executing Buckbeak."

"And you're helping her?"

"Yeah, only it's not going so well. We haven't found a lot of evidence to help, and there's only been one recorded case so far where a creature got off, and that was because it was a Manticore mauling and everyone was too scared to go near it."

The only time Gabriel saw her anymore was in their shared classes, and she never partnered up with him or Michael. It was in Divination that her temper seemed to get the better of her.

Trelawney had just finished predicting that Gabriel would die by the hand of a large dog (which she called a Grim) when Hermione spoke up.

"Not the Grim again," she said loudly, closing her book with a thump. Everyone in the class looked at her.

This was, perhaps, understandable. Trelawney had predicted Gabriel's death by Grim at least twelve times since Christmas break, and during their palmistry unit kept flinching exaggeratedly whenever she looked at his hand. It was getting very irritating.

Trelawney surveyed Hermione with a distant look. "My dear, if I may say so, I perceive very little of the Sight about you...perhaps you do not think widely enough for divination..."

There was a moment's silence.

"Fine!" Hermione said suddenly, shoving her book into her bag. "Fine! You know what? I don't care!" She swung her bag over her shoulder. "I'm leaving!"

And to the astonishment of everyone in the classroom, she did exactly that, striding over to the trapdoor, kicking it open, and climbing down.

"Ooooh!" said another Gryffindor suddenly. "Professor! You said it ages ago, I just remembered! ' _ Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever'!" _

Trelawney gave the girl a sad smile. "I did indeed forsee that Miss Granger would leave us...however, I had hoped that I was wrong...the Inner Eye is often misled..."

Even having dropped Divination, Hermione appeared in classes even more tired-looking than Lupin. The Easter holidays were hardly relaxing, and even though exams were months away work was piled on. Gabriel bought a dictation quill off one of the upper years while they were too distracted to really realize what they were doing and used that to get his work done faster so he had time to think of ideas to keep Hermione from keeling over in the middle of something, while also  _ not  _ letting her know that he was doing anything.

It was more difficult than he anticipated, mostly because he kept forgetting that he'd used so much of his Grace saving Balthazar's life. But Gabriel managed little things.

Hermione probably got suspicious, but even so she never asked Gabriel about it.

The last game of the Quidditch season was approaching in higher stakes than ever before. Gabriel did his best to remove himself from the fervor, and counted himself lucky that Ravenclaw hadn't won the last game or it would have been even worse.

The Cup Final was so popular that nearly everyone turned out to watch it - even Hermione was going, but Gabriel (through liberal use of what he remembered of the map and his invisibility cloak) managed to stay out of the way and avoid being dragged along to watch the game.

He had no idea what happened but he assumed that Gryffindor won, from the way all the red-wearing supporters were cheering when they got back to the castle.

The upcoming exams distracted most from the victory over Hufflepuff. Though the weather outside was warm and inviting, they were all sitting inside frantically revising and making sure they'd got the right notes.

Gabriel thought he did fairly well - he didn't have to make up his History of Magic bit, at any point. Defense was the most interesting exam - Lupin had set up a sort of obstacle course where they had to get past several of the creatures they had learned about over the course of the year. Lupin watched him carefully as Gabriel climbed back out of the trunk with the Boggart, but Gabriel didn't look back - Not-Lucifer had appeared again and he was trying to get back to a state he could reasonably produce a Patronus in.

There was someone in a pinstriped cloak standing on the steps of the school when Gabriel came up after the exam. Gabriel ignored him, but he was sure the man was watching him - not such an uncommon occurrence, due to his vessel's fame.

Divination was the last one they had, and definitely the weirdest.

The exam itself was fine. Gabriel pretended to see a load of stuff in the crystal ball. Trelawney wrote a lot on the parchment in her lap. The weird bit came when Gabriel had turned around and was heading towards the door.

_ "It will happen tonight,"  _ said a deep, hoarse voice. Gabriel whirled around.

Trelawney had gone all stiff in her chair and was staring at nothing, a few feet to the left of Gabriel's head. She spoke again, in the same hoarse voice.

_ "The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight, the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever before. Tonight...before midnight...the servant will set out...to rejoin his master..." _

Trelawney gasped, and startled like a person suddenly waking up.

"Dear me...I must have dozed off..." she muttered, then noticed Gabriel still standing there with an open mouth. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Potter?"

"No," Gabriel said eventually. "No, I don't think so." He descended the silver ladder, mind whirling. What the hell had that been?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's not in the best place right now, Ron's just generally kind of rude, and Michael's probably just rolling with things. 
> 
> I hope you're all excited for Friday after that, though :)


	26. The Shrieking Shack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know this is a day late and I apologize! There was so much crap going on yesterday that I completely forgot to update this, and my reminder Post-It fell off my computer.
> 
> But yeah! Anyway! Read on. Big plot twist coming up soon. This chapter or next one, I can't remember. Enjoy!

On his way back down from the North Tower (and still puzzling over whether Trelawney had seriously given him a real prophecy) Gabriel ran into Ron.

"Hey-" Gabriel stopped at the look on Ron's face. "What happened?"

"Lost the appeal," Ron said weakly. "They're going to execute the Hippogriff."

"Oh." Gabriel still had no idea what a Hippogriff was. He also had no idea what to say.

"They can't just kill him," Ron said angrily. "I've looked up loads of stuff, and he hasn't done anything wrong!"

"Sorry."

"Yeah," Ron muttered. "Just wish we'd done a bit better is all..."

Gabriel saw Ron after dinner as well - he and Hermione were standing in the entrance hall and arguing in quiet voices as people streamed out of the Hall, going back to their common rooms. Gabriel drifted a bit closer. Michael, noticing this, followed him.

"We've got to go visit him!"

"Ron, we can't go out on the grounds, we're not allowed! They'll see us!"

"Who are you going to visit?" Michael asked.

Ron and Hermione both turned around sharply. By now the entrance hall was almost completely deserted, everyone going elsewhere to celebrate the end of exams.

"We - er - we were going to see Hagrid," Ron admitted. "But we're not allowed outside this late-"

"I think," said Gabriel, grinning slightly, "That I may have a solution."

"What, a spell?" Hermione asked dryly.

"Better." Gabriel reached into his pocket and pulled his invisibility cloak out - lucky he'd started keeping it on him. "How about an invisibility cloak?"

"I can't believe you never told me about this," Hermione hissed as the four of them crossed the grounds under the cloak. Hagrid's hut was, apparently, right next to the forest.

"Slipped my mind."

"You told Michael!"

"I thought he told you," Michael put in quickly, obviously unwilling to be blamed for anything. Ron shushed them all as they got closer to the door of the hut, and knocked twice.

The giant groundskeeper opened the door and looked around confusedly.

"Hagrid, it's us!" whispered Hermione. "We're just invisible!"

"You shouldn't’ve come!" Hagrid said in a hoarse whisper, but he let them in all the same.

Gabriel whipped the cloak off of them and stuffed it back in his pocket as soon as the door closed. Hagrid seemed surprised by the two new additions. Mostly, though, he looked rather helpless.

"Where's Buckbeak?" Ron asked.

"I left him outside," Hagrid said miserably. "Didn't want his last moments to be the inside of my hut..."

His hands were trembling so violently that the milk jug he'd been attempting to pour went crashing to the ground.

"Here, I'll do that," Hermione said hurriedly while Gabriel glanced out the window. There was some sort of grey, winged creature tethered in a pumpkin patch who must have been the Hippogriff.

There was a shriek from behind him. Gabriel whirled around and saw Hermione staring with astonishment into another jug.

"Ron, I don't believe it, it's Scabbers!"

"What?"

Hermione turned the jug over and the rat came out, scrambling around on the table before Ron scooped it up.

"Scabbers! What are you doing here? Ow!" The rat looked frantic, clawing at Ron's hands to try and get away. "What's that for? There aren't any cats here, see?"

Hagrid had suddenly gone very pale and was looking out of the window. "They're comin'..."

A group of people were headed down the sloping lawn towards the hut.

"You gotta go," Hagrid whispered, while Gabriel pulled the cloak back out. "They can't find you here or there’ll be big trouble..."

Hagrid opened the back door and let them out into his backyard. Hermione and Ron were reluctant to leave.

"Hagrid, we can tell them the truth-"

"They can't kill him-"

Even Michael looked a little upset, glancing towards the Hippogriff.

"Go!" Hagrid whispered as Gabriel threw the cloak over them. "There's nothing left to do..."

The group of four went back up the lawn towards the castle as the front door closed with a sharp snap. Hermione was silent, in a kind of horrified way, and Ron was still struggling with his rat. The sky had turned a sort of yellowish orange, since the sun was going down, and every time someone turned around to look back at the hut they nearly got blinded by the light in their eyes.

Ron suddenly stopped dead.

"Ron, come on-" Michael began exasperatedly.

"It's Scabbers, he won't stay put-"

The rat was going berserk, and Gabriel was mulling over the pros and cons of kicking Ron so he'd let the thing go and get rid of the problem. Unfortunately, the invisibility didn't apply to others under the cloak.

"Ron, please," Hermione said, slightly tearfully, "Let's go, I don't want to hear it-"

"I can't-"

A door opened behind them and there was a faint mutter of voices.

"I can't hold him - Scabbers, come on, it's  _ me _ -"

The rat was squealing now, not quite loudly enough to cover the sounds coming from behind them. The voices from behind them silenced suddenly, and then there came the unmistakable swish-thud of an axe.

Hermione clapped her hands over her mouth. "They did it."

The four of them stood still under the invisibility cloak, Ron still struggling with his rat. Light was fading fast now, the last bit of sun casting bloody rays over the grounds.

"Come on," Michael said eventually. "We can't go back, he'll be in worse trouble, we've got to go back to the castle..."

They continued walking up the sloping lawn, darkness settling around them and only the lights in the windows showing where the castle was.

"OUCH!"

They all shushed Ron at the same time. 

"Stop it, they'll hear you!" Hermione hissed.

"He bit me!" Ron said, sounding outraged. "He won't - stay - put-"

There was something slinking across the lawn towards them. Something with reflective eyes and a bottle-brush tail.

"No, Crookshanks!" Hermione moaned, sticking one hand out from under the cloak to gesture the cat sharply away. Crookshanks ignored her. "Go away!"

"Scabbers-!"

The rat had finally slipped out of Ron's hands. In one bound the cat was after it, and before anyone could stop him Ron had thrown off the cloak and sprinted after them.

"Ron, no!" After a moment's indecision, Hermione followed. Gabriel and Michael looked at each other.

Michael took off after them as well.

"What the hell," Gabriel muttered, stuffing the cloak back in his pocket again. "Might as well see what's going on."

He could hear Ron shouting already, and there were several slightly darker, humanlike shapes in the darkness ahead.

"Get away from him - get away - Scabbers come  _ here-" _

Someone fell over with a thump.

" _ Gotcha!  _ Get off you stinking-"

Gabriel almost fell over Ron as the boy rolled over, and had to jump to the side to avoid exactly that. Ron was rolling on the ground, trying to keep ahold of his rat.

"We need to get back under the cloak," Hermione panted. "Dumbledore - the Minster - they'll be up here in a minute-"

But before she could continue, something else moved in the darkness. It was heading straight towards them - a gigantic dog which was nearly invisible in the night.

Gabriel dived to the side to avoid it as the dog leaped and hit the ground behind him. Hermione yelled something but the dog had turned around and instead of going for Gabriel again its jaw had fastened around Ron's arm and it was dragging him away.

Michael shouted and lunged towards the redhead but something whooshed out of the darkness and hit nem away, throwing Michael backwards. Gabriel raced towards nem.

"What the hell was that?" Michael shouted. Ne had a long, thin cut across one cheek. The dog and Ron were disappearing into some sort of tunnel and Ron had hooked a foot over the entrance to try and stop himself from being pulled in. The moment Gabriel took a step towards him there was a loud crack, a strangled yell, and his foot vanished along with the rest of him.

Hermione tried to go after him but she was tossed back as well, and now Gabriel could make out what had done it. It was the huge willow tree he'd seen on the grounds, except now its branches were waving wildly, and it appeared to be planted right over the tunnel entrance. The branches swooped past them, preventing any of them from getting to the tunnel.

"Harry - we've got to go for help-" Hermione panted, holding her chest with a wince.

"Are you mad?" Michael demanded. "That thing's big enough to eat him if we're gone too long-"

Gabriel, however, was watching in disbelief as Crookshanks wove through the mess of waving branches and hit a knot on the trunk of the tree. The willow abruptly froze in place, absolutely still.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione whispered. She was grabbing Gabriel's arm, all arguments seemingly forgotten. "How did he-"

"No idea." Gabriel was already heading into the tunnel - though it was less 'rescue Ron' and more 'what the hell is going on here' that movitated him. Michael and Hermione followed him.

Hermione lit her wand as they entered the tunnel, casting a shaky light over it. It was dirty and uneven, with the occasional root poking through the roof, but as they walked further these stopped appearing. The tunnel went on and on, as long and as winding as the one which led into Honeydukes.

"We must be under Hogsmeade by now," whispered Michael, voicing Gabriel's thoughts.

"Must be," Gabriel agreed. "This was on that map...probably no one uses it because of the willow, but obviously someone showed Crookshanks how to make it freeze like that..."

The tunnel began to rise eventually, showing that they were near the end, and then it gave one final twist and Crookshanks (who had been walking in front of them the whole time) abruptly vanished from view.

The tunnel led into a very dusty room, obviously unused for ages. All three of them had their wands out now, and in the light provided it was easy to see that the furniture was absolutely trashed. There were claw marks and chunks taken out of them, the wallpaper was peeling, and every window had been boarded up.

"We must be in the Shrieking Shack," Michael whispered. "But ghosts can't do anything like  _ this..." _

There was a creak from overhead and everyone's eyes darted to the ceiling.

"Upstairs," Gabriel hissed into the sudden silence, and they all carefully moved towards a visible, and visibly crumbling, staircase.

"Nox," Hermione whispered as they reached the landing, Michael and Gabriel doing the same. The darkness was encompassing, and Gabriel took a moment to let his eyes adjust before creeping towards the already-open door.

Gabriel kicked it open.

There was a large, dusty four-poster bed inside, on top of which Crookshanks was curled into a little loaf and purring contentedly. On the floor next to the bed was Ron, leg at a strange angle and pale.

"Ron!" Gabriel glanced around at the room as Hermione and Michael rushed over. "Are you alright?" Hermione asked.

"Where's the dog?" Michael questioned, nearly at the same time.

"Not a dog..."

"What?" Gabriel looked sharply at the redhead.

"He's the dog...an Animagus..."

Gabriel whirled around as the door shut with a snap.

There was a man behind it, with a sunken face and a load of matted hair. He was wearing tattered clothes and looked like barely more than a skeleton, and was completely unmistakeable as Sirius Black.

And he was about a foot away from Gabriel.

Wouldn't this be wonderful.

"Expelliarmus!"

Gabriel dodged the spell and it hit Hermione and Michael instead, their wands yanking themselves out of their hands and landing in Black's. Gabriel had his up and pointing at Black before the man could cast again, and they were both frozen, looking at each other.

Black seemed to be fixated on him. "I knew you'd come," he rasped. He sounded like he hadn't talked in ages. "For your friend...your father would have done the same thing. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful...it will make things much easier."

Something thumped behind them and Black's eyes flickered over Gabriel's shoulder. Gabriel didn't turn around.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too," a voice that sounded like Ron declared, and something like disbelief flared in Gabriel's chest.

"Lie down," Black said quietly. "You will damage that leg even further."

That didn't sound like something a serial killer would say.

"Did you hear me?" Ron demanded.

"There will only be one murder tonight." Okay, that sounded much more ominous.

"So what?" Gabriel decided to do what he did best - talk. "You're going to kill me and then let them go? And what, make your escape? No, see, I think you're underestimating my friends."

Black looked at him oddly.

"Really, this was all very badly thought out," continued Gabriel. "Now all three of them know about your dog thing, which I'm guessing you've been using to avoid dementors and the like. You let them walk, I wonder if they'll try and keep that a secret? Considered you are threatening to murder me here." Gabriel smirked slightly. "That is, if you really do end up managing to."

"Harry," Hermione whispered in the background. "What are you doing?"

"You've had plenty of time," Gabriel said, not answering Hermione. "You could have just dragged me in here and been done with it before anyone showed up. I came in here a while ago and you haven't made a single move towards me, except to disarm me. Why?"

Gabriel's want was still unerringly pointed at Black, who though he still had one of his own was letting it hang at his side. "I don't have time to explain myself to you," he growled.

Something creaked downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione yelled before Black could do anything. "SIRIUS BLACK - QUICK!"

Black made a startled movement and footsteps were thundering up the stairs and the door slammed open for the second time.

Lupin came hurtling in, his wand raised. His eyes flitted over Black and the entire scenario - Gabriel facing Black, Hermione and Michael next to Ron on the floor with a broken leg - and then back to Black.

"Expelliarmus!"

But it wasn't just Black's wand which was yanked away, but Gabriel's as well. He hadn't been expecting it, and so Lupin caught his wand easily and stowed it.

"Where is he, Sirius?"

What. The Hell. Was Lupin talking about.

For a few moments Black didn't move at all. Then, slowly, he brought up his hand and pointed at Ron.

"What-" Gabriel turned to look as well. The other three looked just as bewildered as he felt.

"But then," Lupin muttered, as if talking to himself, "Why hasn't he shown himself? Unless..." his eyes went back to Black. "Unless you switched without telling me?"

Black nodded, again not speaking.

Gabriel felt that this was a good time to interrupt.

"Okay, would someone please explain what the hell is going on?" he demanded.

Lupin didn't answer. He stooped, picked up Black's wand, and handed it back to him.

Before anyone could speak, Hermione started shouting.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT! YOU'RE ON HIS SIDE!"

"Hermione-" Lupin began.  


"You and him-"

"Hermione, please-"

"I didn't say anything-"

"Hermione, calm down-"

"You've been helping him?" Gabriel asked, more out of disbelief than any sort of betrayal.

"You're wrong," Lupin said desperately. "I haven't-"

"NO!" Hermione shrieked. "Harry, don't trust him! He must have been helping Black into the castle, he wants you dead too - HE'S A WEREWOLF!"

There was a ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on the three gathered by the door - Gabriel, Lupin, and Black, though admittedly Gabriel was much farther away from the other two.

Gabriel spoke first. "I know he's a werewolf," he said out loud, making Michael and Ron look at him in disbelief. "But I seriously doubt he wants me dead if he's been teaching me the Patronus charm or giving me perfectly safe and unpoisoned cups of tea."

"I don't," said Lupin, looking relieved. "And I haven't been helping Sirius get into the castle, either."

Ron made another effort to get up and collapsed with a grunt of pain. When Lupin made as though to go towards him he scooted backwards, hitting the side of the four-poster. " _ Get away from me, werewolf!" _

Lupin stopped, and with an obvious effort, turned to Hermione.

"How long have you known?"

"Ages," Hermione whispered. "Ever since we did that essay for Snape."

"He'll be pleased," said Lupin darkly. "That was what he set the essay for, of course."

"And he was right!" Michael suddenly yelled. "He didn't trust you, did he, and we shouldn't have!"

"Michael-"

"No!" Hermione started shout too, and soon Ron joined in until there was just a load of incomprehensible yelling and before Gabriel fully realized what he was doing he snapped his fingers.

Wands disappeared from hands with a crack. Lupin and Black looked down at their hands in alarm and then to Gabriel as he tucked two wands into his pocket, where three others waited.

Pushing down his panic because  _ oh shit I don't have a good excuse for that,  _ Gabriel glared at the room as a whole. "Everyone," he said in a carefully measured voice, "is going to sit down until we figure out exactly what is going on."

"Harry," Lupin said slowly. "How did you-"

Gabriel held up a hand. "Story first," he said, then pointed at Sirius. "You. Why'd you point at Ron?"

"I wasn't pointing at the boy," Sirius said hoarsely, staring at Gabriel. "I was pointing at the rat."

"My rat?" Ron said. "What d'you want with Scabbers?"

"His name's not Scabbers," said Lupin. "He's an Aminagus, by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

Absolute silence.

"He's what?" asked Michael disbelievingly. "But Pettigrew's dead - you killed him!" Ne pointed accusingly at Sirius.

"I meant to," Sirius snarled. "But little Peter got the best of me - not this time!"

He made as if to go for Ron and Gabriel shoved him into a chair that had been hurriedly snapped over, scraping across the floor.

"We are discussing this calmly," he threatened, wand pointed straight at Sirius. "No one is killing anyone until everything has been explained. Understand?"

Sirius didn't nod, but eyed the wand warily.

"Lupin." Gabriel looked up. "How do you know the rat's a man."

"Harry-" Hermione looked at him in shock.

"We have two options, Hermione," Gabriel interrupted. "One, they're both crazy and we can humor then before handing this guy over to the dementors." Sirius jerked in the chair. "Or two, they're telling the truth and there's a possibility that the rat is, actually, an Animagus."

"You're crazy!" Ron shouted.

"I'm not, actually. Come on. Either the rat is a man or it's really a rat. If it is a man, we deal with it. If not, then we'll only be proved right." Gabriel explained further, his wand tip not wavering despite the fact that he wasn't even looking at Sirius anymore.

"I'm not giving you my rat!" Ron held the rat tightly, despite the fact that this entire time it had been doing its best to escape.

"Listen to me," Lupin said quickly. "You remember the map...Harry told you about it, no doubt...I was looking at it tonight, when to my surprise I saw you out on the grounds. And not only that, but the five of you-"

"Four of us!"

"Five of you," Lupin repeated calmly, "Had an unexpected member...someone I'd long since thought was dead...Peter Pettigrew..."

"What about Black?" Gabriel asked. "Why all this fuss about Pettigrew?"

"You know the story of how your parents had a secret keeper," Sirius spoke suddenly. "I was going to be that person originally...but I knew that everyone would immediately know it was me...I convinced your parents to switch to Peter at the last second..."

"You're lying," Michael said shakily.

"He's telling the truth," said Gabriel, whose attention had switched back to Sirius.

"And how do we know you are?" Michael suddenly shouted. "You just wandlessly took their wands! You could be lying to us to! You haven't tried to explain  _ yourself _ !"

Gabriel swallowed down any guilt. "No," he said evenly. "That's because I don't have a good explanation. But these two do-" he gestured to Lupin and Sirius, "-and so they're going to explain themselves. Either way, someone in this room is spying for Voldemort-" They all flinched at the name, "-And I'm not explaining any info that might get retold to that guy. He's a dick."

It seemed to take a moment for them to process that Gabriel had actually just called Voldemort a dick. Meanwhile, Gabriel glanced downstairs and subtly knocked out whoever had followed them in. No need for them to be interrupted.

He faced Lupin again.

"Explain," he said. "You say Pettigrew's an Animagus, but how come you're sure that one's him?"

"His finger," Sirius said quietly. "The biggest bit they ever found of him...that rat's missing his toe on the front paw..."

Lupin was looking at the rat in astonishment. "Of course," he breathed. "When he confronted you...he must have cut off his own finger and transformed so everyone would think it had been you..."

"And I assume you're going to say that Pettigrew cast the spell the blew up the street?" Hermione said, voice barely wavering.

"He did," Sirius snapped, but still didn't get up as during the whole time Gabriel's wand had not moved from his throat. "Cornered me and framed me...pretended I'd been the secret keeper...and it worked..."

Well. This was certainly an unexpected turn of events. And the man hadn't lied once.

"Where's your proof?"

"In Peter," Sirius said.

"Come off it," Ron said weakly. "You're saying you broke out of Azkaban for my rat? I mean - there are millions of them!"

"How _did_ you find Peter?" asked Lupin frowning. Sirius moved carefully, eyes on the wand Gabriel was still pointing at him, and dug a newspaper clipping out of his robes. It featured a picture of the Weasley family, the rat perched on Ron's shoulder, and was an article about how they'd won the gold to go to Egypt.

"I recognized him," Sirius said. "There's only one rat like that, missing that finger..."

"He's been in my family for ages!" Ron protested. "He probably just got into a fight with another rat!"

"Ages?" Lupin questioned. "Twelve years, I'd bet...you never wondered why he was living so long? Most rats don't."

"We've been taking good care of him!"

"Ron, seriously," Gabriel said dryly. "Even if they are crazy, that's a hell of a lot of coincidences."

Ron swallowed and looked around at them, as if for support. Hermione looked conflicted, as if she realized the logic of at least seeing if they were right. Michael kept glancing at Gabriel out of the corners of nir eyes.

"You're serious," Ron said.

"Ron," Lupin said firmly. "Give me the rat and we'll prove this once and for all."

Ron hesitated. "What are you going to do to him?"

"Just force him to reveal himself," Lupin said calmly. "If Scabbers is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Reluctantly, Ron handed over the rat, who started struggling harder than ever. Lupin glanced over to Gabriel.

"Er - we'll need our wands."

"What? Oh." Gabriel dug into his pocket and pulled out all five. Sirius did a double take and reached down to his own pocket, as if conforming that they were really gone.

"How did you-"

"Never mind that," Gabriel interrupted. "Which one is your again? Oh, that's Michael's." He tossed Michael nir wand, and then Hermione hers, and finally through process of elimination found Lupin's. "Here."

Lupin took it and the other one as well, tossing it to Sirius, who Gabriel allowed out of the chair.

"At the same time?" Lupin asked Sirius, and he nodded as they both faced the rat held tightly in Lupin's hand.

"One - two - three!"

There was a bright flash of light. The rat was dropped and it was like they were watching a fast-forward film, which resulted in a cowering, balding man sitting on the floor of the shack.

"Hello, Peter." Lupin said, perfectly calm, as if rats frequently turned into old friends around him.

"S-Sirius...R-Remus..." his voice was squeaky even as a human. "My old friends..."

"No," Sirius growled, stepping forwards. "You don't get to call us that. After what you did to James and Lily!"

"They would have killed me!" Pettigrew said, backing up hurriedly. "He would have killed me, Sirius, how could I fight-"

"How?" Lupin asked in a voice full of barely repressed anger. "The same way we all fought against him, Peter!"

"They would have kill-"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" Sirius bellowed "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS! HOW COULD YOU?"

Everyone was watching in either fascinated horror or, in Gabriel's case, just watching. Lupin and Sirius both squared their shoulders and pointed their wands at Peter.

"You should have known, Peter," said Sirius quietly. "If Voldemort didn't kill you, we would."

"Stop!" said Hermione suddenly.

Everyone turned to look at her.

"You can't kill him," she said in a quavering voice. "Then - you'd go back to Azkaban, right? And no one would ever know that Pettigrew was the one to betray Harry's parents...we can give him to the dementors."

Pettigrew went a nasty shade of white at that. Sirius stared at Hermione. Then, very slowly, he lowered his wand.

"The dementors are horrible," he said quietly. "Worst thing in the world. I don't know how I stayed sane in Azkaban, for twelve whole years..." He turned away. "It’s what he deserves."

"No!" shrieked Pettigrew. Lupin flicked his wand at the man and ropes bound themselves around Pettigrew, so that he almost looked like a mummy.

"Let's bring him back up to the castle," Lupin suggested. "We'll have to explain things to Dumbledore."

They all descended the stairs. Pettigrew had been shackled to Lupin and enchanted to float behind him. Hermione, leading the procession, stopped dead when she saw the room they had first entered.

"What in Merlin's name...?" Snape was lying sprawled on the floor. So that was who had been downstairs.

"Snape?" said Sirius incredulously. "What's he doing here?"

"He teaches at the school now," Lupin told him. "I wonder why he's here...and what knocked him unconscious."

"This place is haunted," Michael said.

"No," Lupin still looked puzzled. "It was never haunted. I used this place, on full moons, when I came to school here...the tunnel was created to give me an entrance and the willow planted to prevent anyone stumbling across me." His eyes widened suddenly. "Sirius."

"What?" Sirius glanced over to see Lupin undoing his half of the shackle and clicking it onto Sirius's arm. "Remus what's wrong?"

"It's the full moon."

Hermione, Michael, and Ron all did their best to back away from Lupin at that. Sirius just looked puzzled. "But - you've got the potion, right?"

Lupin groaned. "I- I've forgotten to take it."

Sirius's eyes widened. "Run!"

They left Lupin behind in the shack, sprinting down the tunnel with Sirius levitating Snape and Pettigrew stumbling along behind him, none of them wanting to deal with a full-grown werewolf at that moment.

The full moon outside lit up the grounds, casting pale white light over everything. Luckily there were no dementors in sight.

"What are we going to do?" Michael demanded, coming to a halt. "We can't just walk up to the castle with Sirius Black! They'll arrest him before we can say anything!"

"I think Pettigrew might give them a bit of a shock, we can work with that," Gabriel said.

"Can we work with you, though?" Ron demanded, being held up by Hermione and bandages that Lupin had conjured tightly wound around his broken leg. "You used some weird magic in there - and you still haven't explained yourself!"

"That again? We've got some bigger problems here!"

"No, he's right," said Hermione stubbornly. "Harry, even some of the greatest wizards can't do wandless magic.  _ Dumbledore  _ still uses a wand. And you made everyone's wands appear in your pocket just by snapping your fingers!"

Gabriel hesitated, Hermione’s mistrust cutting deep. This was one situation he couldn’t explain his way out of. "Look, I promise I'll explain everything later, but right now-"

A howl cut through his sentence. Sirius looked back at the tunnel in horror - they were just out of the willow's reach, but still close enough to realize where the noise had come from.

"Go!" Sirius shouted, just as something huge and furred burst out from the base of the tree.

Gabriel swept the three of them behind him with a thought and he might have heard someone curse as Ron tripped over his bad leg. His arms were spread and Hermione did shriek a little bit when she saw the silver weapon that hadn't been there three seconds ago.

"What-"

Sirius was already turning into his animagus form and Gabriel shouted for him to stop but it was already too late. Pettigrew was left with no minders and he was transforming too, disappearing into the grass. Gabriel had no Grace to go after him and if he had it would leave his friends undefended - Snape, unconscious several feet away where Sirius had dropped him, was certainly going to be no help.

The wolf-Lupin was huge and menacing, growling and amber eyes narrowed at Sirius, who in dog form was standing with back arched in between Gabriel and the others, and Lupin.

They fell on each other with snarls and the fight rolled away from them.

"Go!" Gabriel pushed the others towards the school, but Lupin was flinging Sirius off and rounding on them. Gabriel brandished the angel blade at him. Sirius stayed on the ground, stunned or unconscious.

"This isn't silver," he said in a low voice, making sure they were all behind him, "But I'd bet it'll hurt just as badly. Back. Away."

Lupin growled again, but his eyes were on the blade - his wolf side obviously could tell when danger was present, and right now Gabriel was the most dangerous thing on the grounds.

The wolf, however, also seemed to be more confident in itself.

It lunged for the group and there was a lot of screaming but Gabriel met it halfway and this was no time to get shirty about giving the Defense teacher a new scar or two. The wolf howled again and backed off quickly, bleeding from two new cuts on its face. It gave Gabriel one look and headed towards the forest, long stride getting it there in a matter of minutes. Gabriel hurried over to where Sirius was still lying. Had Lupin killed him?

Apparently, no. He'd reverted back to human form when he got knocked out and was lying with a large gash across one arm.

"Wake up!" Gabriel hit him sharply, putting some power behind it. He was having to use way too much Grace in the last two hours or so.

Sirius woke with a start and sat bolt upright. "What-"

Gabriel hauled him to his feet. "Lupin scarpered into the forest. We're going up to the castle. Come on."

Bewildered, Sirius followed. Hermione, Michael, and Ron were still staring at Gabriel with varying degrees of incredulity and shock.

Of course, even with all that had gone wrong that night, getting up to the castle wouldn't be that easy.

It began with a sudden temperature drop.

It continued with frost creeping along the grass towards them.

And it got even worse when Sirius dropped to his knees.

Dementors were gliding across the lawn towards them, hundreds flocking from all over the grounds. Gabriel drew his wand but he didn't even have a corporeal patronus yet, and the one he could conjure wouldn't stand up to this many. There was no way he'd be able to use Grace against them unless he wanted to pass out and spend another month or two feeling uncomfortably human until enough of it came back.

"Harry-" Hermione sounded frightened. 

"Run!" Gabriel commanded.  


"We're not leaving you here!" Michael shouted back.

"What happened to not trusting me?"

"I don't care!"

_ Well at least that particular hurdle isn't as big as I thought it was,  _ thought Gabriel as the dementors descended on them. He raised his wand, but the words faded on his lips as the world dimmed.

Seconds before he passed out, something silver ripped through the approaching horde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mean? Yes, probably. Comment, please!


	27. A Secret Revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really did mean to upload this yesterday! I got sidetracked by mild illness, though. Hope you enjoy this chapter anyway!

_ You disloyal... _

_ They are broken, flawed, abortions! _

_ Brother, don't make me do this. _

_ I know you think you're doing the right thing...but I know where your heart truly lies... _

_...Here _

_ Amateur hocus-pocus...don't forget...you learned all your tricks from me, little brother. _

* * *

 

His memories seemed very fuzzy. So did Gabriel's vision, when he managed to get his eyes open. The effects from the dementor ebbed away as Gabriel woke more fully, memories draining back into the corner of his mind.

Everything was white and Gabriel groaned under his breath when he realized he was in the hospital wing again.

Gabriel propped himself up on his elbows. Not much time could have passed, because everyone was still in their clothes and outside the window it was still dark. Hermione was lying in the bed next to his, Michael on her other side, and Gabriel could make out Ron lying in a bed opposite him, still out cold and leg now looking much more efficiently bandaged.

Hermione's eyes were on Gabriel. He quickly laid back down as Madam Pomfrey passed by, not eager to be coddled. Two voices were talking and Gabriel recognized one of them as belonging to Dumbledore.

"Shocking business," said the unfamiliar one. "Miracle none of them died."

"And I assume the dementors are to be removed from the grounds?" That was Dumbledore, who sounded rather upset.

"Of course, of course, Dumbledore...never dreamed they'd try to do something like that to an innocent boy..."

"And what of Black?"

"He'll be going to Azkaban...he'd have been kissed already if you'd just let in the dementors-"

"Minister," Dumbledore sounded suddenly severe. "I will not allow the dementors into Hogwarts. I have already been proved in my belief that it was a bad idea to allow them here as guards in the first place."

"Yes, well..."

"We have already heard Professor Snape's side of the story, and we can only see what these students have to say when they wake up."

"You will alert me when that happens?"

Gabriel faked shifting around in his bed and sat up, groaning and glancing around. The conversation abruptly halted, and Madam Pomfrey rushed over.

"You're awake!" She was holding a block of chocolate that looked more like a small boulder. Madam Pomfrey placed it on the bedside table and began breaking it apart with a small hammer.

"Mister Potter." Dumbledore appeared at the end of Gabriel's bed, the same man in the pinstriped cloak from earlier trailing behind him. "What an adventure you've had. Is this to become a theme with your school years?"

"Hopefully not," Gabriel muttered. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Well-" Dumbledore conjured a comfortable-looking armchair out of nowhere and Gabriel felt a stab of jealousy.  _ He  _ used to be able to do that. Damn Grace. "I believe the Minster - as well as myself - have several questions for you about what happened."

"Shoot."

The Minister looked confused, but Dumbledore only smiled. "Perhaps you could tell us exactly what happened?"

So Gabriel did.

The Minster's expression grew increasingly more incredulous as the story progressed, and when Gabriel reached the bit where Pettigrew turned back he actually interrupted.

"Mister Potter, you can't be serious."

"No," Gabriel said with a completely straight face. "That's the man you're trying to arrest."

The Minister gaped at him, while Dumbledore's eyes twinkled harder than ever.

"I'm talking about Black being innocent!" The Minister blustered eventually. "Everyone knows he's guilty-"

"Can't you dig up his old trial records?" Gabriel suggested. "See what got him convicted the first time?"

Both Dumbledore and the Minister looked surprised at that, and while the Minister seemed more nervous, Dumbledore is more thoughtful.

"Yes," he said, smiling slightly. "Cornelius, why don't you try and find the old evidence that convicted Sirius? I'm sure Madam Bones would be more than willing."

"I - er-" the Minister looked rather flustered. "I suppose - is there a Floo I can borrow?"

"This way," Madam Pomfrey told him, leading him off and taking a break from shoving chocolate down Hermione's throat.

"Well now," said Dumbledore once he was gone. "This is quite the twist."

"You believe me?"

"Oh, certainly. I doubt Minister Fudge does, however." Fudge? Gabriel was never going to be able to eat fudge again after this. The man was a disgrace to the name.

"So what do you think will happen to Sirius?" Gabriel asked. It was genuine curiosity, and not the need to pretend to be thirteen.

"Ah! Mister Potter. I have an excellent memory, and while Cornelius is Flooing Madam Bones I think he'll get an unwelcome surprise when he discovers that there are no trial records."

Gabriel took a minute to realize what Dumbledore meant. " _ He never got a trial?" _

"Plenty of people were sent straight to Azkaban." Dumbledore, at least, looked slightly remorseful. "I must confess, though, I never imagined that your parents would use Peter as their secret keeper."

Gabriel just shrugged. A shout suddenly came from the room Fudge was Flooing in, and a moment later Madam Pomfrey came back out. "He's gone through to the ministry," she told Dumbledore. "Something about a fault in the records."

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Then I shall leave you to your patients, Poppy." He got up. "Might I have a private word with these two first, though?"

Madam Pomfrey, though she looked rather put out at not being able to force-feed Gabriel any chocolate, nodded and retreated to her office.

"Miss Granger." Dumbledore said pleasantly. "While Minister Fudge can be convinced, he has convinced himself that the Sirius Black case will make or break his career. It is unlikely that Sirius will escape with a pardon in this situation."

Hermione looked puzzled, but was listening intently.   


"What we need," said Dumbledore, "is more  _ time." _

Hermione's mouth made a little O of surprise, but strangely enough she seemed to understand.

"Now pay attention," Dumbledore continued. "Sirius is locked in Professor Flitwick's office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight. But remember this, both of you;  _ you must not be seen. _ Miss Granger, you know the law - you know what is at stake."

Hermione nodded quickly. Gabriel looked between the two of them, wondering whether he was missing a piece of the puzzle, or if he'd even started putting the puzzle together yet.

"I am going to lock you in," said Dumbledore, holding up a tiny key. He consulted his watch. "It is five minutes to midnight. Three turns ought to do it, Miss Granger."

Dumbledore swept away and closed the door. Hermione dug something on a chain out from under the collar of her robes.

"Harry, come here, quickly!"

"What the hell is that?" Gabriel threw his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Hermione threw the chain over his neck as well. There was a small, golden contraption hanging as a pendant from it which held a tiny hourglass full of sand. "What-"

"Not now!" Hermione spun the contraption around one, two, three times and then they were at the center of one of the  _ wrong  _ energy storms that Gabriel had so often sensed. Things were blurring past them and Gabriel gasped as they landed in the Entrance hall, gold light spilling through the windows. Hermione dragged him into a storage closet just as two people entered the hall.

As Gabriel and Hermione sat in the closet, Gabriel tried to recover from what had to be the most uncomfortable time travel he'd ever done.  _ He _ could have done better than that, even if it did exhaust his Grace.

"Hermione what the hell is that thing?" He demanded.

"It's a time-turner," Hermione explained. "I've been using it since the start of the year-"

"You  _ what?"  _ No wonder he'd been bothered by it all year. "Hermione, do you have any idea-"

"Sssh!" she hissed, and in the sudden silence Gabriel heard what was unmistakably Hermione and Ron arguing about Hagrid's.

"Yes, that's us..." Hermione whispered, her ear to the door. "And there's you offering the cloak..." Light, slow footsteps came past the closet. "We've gone down to Hagrid's..."

Hermione looked at Gabriel. "You're taking time travel very well."

"I already knew people could time travel,” Gabriel said shortly. “What I didn't know was that you thought it would be a good idea to do so for your  _ classes." _

"Harry..."

"What are we doing here?" Gabriel cut her off, pulling the chain of the thing off over his head. Time travel. So she could take all the classes offered. Really.

"Dumbledore told us where Sirius was," Hermione whispered tucking it back into her robes, "So we must be supposed to rescue him, since Fudge won't declare him innocent...but he said something about two innocent lives."

Hermione suddenly gasped and clutched Gabriel's arm. "Harry! Buckbeak!"

"The Hippogriff?"

"We can save him! We can use him and fly up to the window where Sirius is!"

"I thought the point of this was to  _ not be seen?" _

Hermione looked conflicted. "But - that had to be what he meant-”

"Hermione, I'm not saying you're wrong, I'm saying we'll need a damn miracle."

"Harry! Don't swear!"

Gabriel ignored her and put his ear to the door of the closet.

"Sounds like we're gone...we'll need to go straight into the Forest to avoid being seen."

"Around by the greenhouses," Hermione decided. "We'll have to get near Hagrid's, but we'll have to be very careful; we might see us, I mean ourselves."

Gabriel opened the door and stepped back out into the hall, Hermione following. Looking back as she closed the door, Gabriel felt a smile tugging at his mouth.

"Why are you grinning?"

"We've just come out of the closet."

It took a minute for Hermione to understand and smack Gabriel's shoulder.

"That's not funny."

"Let's go, we're running out of time."

The Forest is dim in the light of the setting sun and Gabriel and Hermione creep closer to the hut, where the door closed with a thump behind four invisible entities.

"Where's Buckbeak?" Hermione whispered.

"In the yard, I saw him earlier - but we can't yet."

"What?" Hermione stared incredulously at Gabriel. "Why?"

"If he's gone before the appeal or whatever can start, who d'you think they'll blame?"

He can see the moment Hermione understands. "They'll think Hagrid let him go," she breathes. "But that's going to give us about sixty seconds!"

"We'll have to make it."

There was a group of people making their way down to Hagrid's hut, the same group of people Gabriel had seen earlier. Gabriel watched as their past selves pulled on the cloak and vanished, and then as the group of older men (including the pinstriped Fudge) entered the cabin.

Gabriel hurried out of the forest and up to the tethered creature. It watched him with sharp amber eyes, and Gabriel slowed down slightly as he got closer. 

"You've got to bow to it!" Hermione hissed at him. Gabriel eyed the hippogriff skeptically. He sure as hell didn’t feel like bowing to it. But it was eyeing him ominously, and Gabriel really didn't feel like getting mauled, so...

He managed a sort of head bow. It didn't seem to work.

"Come on, what is this going to take?"

"Be polite to him!" Hermione whisper-yelled. "And hurry up!"

Gabriel bowed deeper. Finally, it bowed back. Gabriel took that as permission and hurriedly unlocked the collar, pulling the stubborn Hippogriff away into the forest just in time.

They had gone deep enough to not be seen, but were still close enough to hear the faint sound of voices stop. Then-

"Where is the beast?" asked a reedy voice. "Where has it gone?"

"It was tied here, I saw it!" said someone furiously.

"How extraordinary," said Dumbledore, sounding slightly amused.

There was a swish and a thud - whoever the executioner was, he had swung the axe into what sounded like the fence.

Hagrid started howling in delight, and the Hippogriff started straining at the lead to try and go back and it took most of Gabriel's considerable strength to keep him still.

"Someone untied him!" The same angry voice was snarling. "We have to search the forest-"

"Macnair, if someone really has taken the hippogriff, do you think they will have gone on foot?" Dumbledore still sounded amused. "Search the skies, if you will...Hagrid, I could do with a cup of tea."

"O - o' course, professor."

The door closed again.

"We'll have to wait until Sirius gets into the castle," Hermione said into the silence. "We'll have to hide in here...he won't be there for another couple of hours..."

"We've got to move towards the willow, then, if we want to know what's going on."

Hermione worried her lip in between her teeth. "Alright," she decided. "But we'll have to be-"

"Careful, I know. We can't be seen."  _ This isn't the first time I've time-traveled, you know. _

The Hippogriff trailed behind them as they navigated through the forest, drawing closer to the willow as the sun set completely. Gabriel, as he looked through the branches, winced as he saw Michael get knocked back by the branch.

There were the shouts, Animagus Sirius, and then the tree froze and their past selves descended into the tunnel.

"How long do we have to wait?" Gabriel whispered.

"A few hours, at least," Hermione muttered back. "We only went back three hours, and it's been about thirty minutes at least."

The wait was incredibly boring. The only thing that happened was Hagrid wandering by halfway through, going towards the castle and obviously drunk.

Then, someone - a lot of someones - came out from under the willow.

Gabriel seized Hermione's arm. "Hermione, we need to move."

"What?"

"Lupin is going to be coming right towards us in about a minute, move!"

Hermione did move, and they both tugged the Hippogriff as they navigated the undergrowth of the forest and ended up somewhere around the shore of the black lake, where it was thickly growing with trees and nearly impossible to see.

People were walking nearby, though, and soon Gabriel felt the typical cold that announced the dementors. They seemed to be ignoring him and Hermione, for whatever reason - maybe the time travel, maybe they were too far away. Whatever the case, all of them were descending on the small group on the other side of the shore.

Gabriel frowned as something occurred to him. He'd seen a silver shape right before he blacked out...had that been a Patronus? Someone must have cast it. But who? Scanning the shoreline and the lawn up to the school, there was no one in sight, and already his past self appeared to be on the ground.

Then it hit Gabriel.

Who was the nearest person who could actually cast the Patronus charm?

Gabriel was standing up and shoving his was through the bushes before Hermione could do anything.

"Harry, wait-"

"Expecto patronum!"

Something silver-bright burst out of the end of his wand and swooped at the dementors, who scattered before it. The Patronus (which was  _ definitely  _ winged) circled over the group, as if making sure all the dementors were gone, before swooping back over to Gabriel. And that was when he recognized it.

"Of course."

It was a magpie.

It dissipated soon after it got rid of the dementors, and Gabriel ducked back into the bushes as someone new came onto the scene.

Hermione looked a bit surprised. "That was you?" Obviously she would have seen it before - only Sirius and Gabriel had collapsed.

"Yeah. Apparently."

Hermione glanced back to where their past selves were sitting. "There's Snape - he must have woken up, he was the one who took us up to the school."

"So now we wait another half hour and go get Sirius?"

"I guess." Hermione tugged the Hippogriff away from the shore. "No, Buckbeak, you can't go that way!"

Eventually it was deemed late enough to risk flying up to the tower. The Hippogriff was convinced to let them on, and while Hermione seemed mildly terrified, Gabriel was just annoyed that he had to rely on it to be able to fly.

"No, you're going south - to the right a bit!" Hermione shouted directions over the wind from her seat behind Gabriel while he did his best to steer the Hippogriff towards where Sirius was locked up. Eventually, they were flying past the west tower, and Hermione was hurriedly counting windows.

"There!"

Luckily, they were unlocked. Sirius jumped up from a chair inside as the window clicked open.

"What-" He seemed lost for words.

"No time, get on." Gabriel inwardly cursed as he realized he’d just lost the perfect opportunity to quote Mean Girls. “We’re getting out of here!”

Hurriedly, Sirius managed to balance on the window ledge and haul himself onto the Hippogriff behind Hermione. The Hippogriff took off again, and when they finally landed it was in the courtyard below. Hermione slid off eagerly, feet hitting the stone as Gabriel swung himself off.

Sirius was staring at them in astonishment. "How can I-"

"Go, you idiot, they're going to realize you're gone any minute." Gabriel had to tilt his head back to look at him because of the added height from sitting on the Hippogriff.

"Thank you," Sirius said hoarsely, and with a loud flap the Hippogriff took off again, soaring away until it was too far away to see.

Hermione tugged on Gabriel's arm. "We've got to go back inside, it's nearly midnight!"

The hallways were dark and empty - even Filch didn't seem to be out and about. Peeves swooped by them at one point, but Gabriel put a single finger to his mouth and the poltergeist went completely silent.

It didn't matter that Hermione noticed - she and Michael were going to have questions anyway.

Dumbledore was standing outside of the hospital wing doors when they arrived.

"Ah," he said cheerfully. "I assume you've managed it?"

"Yes," Hermione panted, since they had run most of the way to make it in time. "Yes, we saved both of them."

"Wonderful." Dumbledore opened the door wide enough for them both to get in. "Now, I think you have just left, so it should be safe to go in. Goodnight, Miss Granger, Mister Potter."

Michael was sitting up when they walked in. "What the hell?" ne asked blankly. "You were over there just a second ago!"

"You explain," Gabriel said quickly to Hermione.

* * *

 

Snape, of course, was furious that Sirius had escaped, and he showed it by being even more unbearable than usual. But with the exam season over, and classes easier than they had been all year, no one could be that bothered by it.

Hermione had explained the time-turner to Michael and Ron ("How come you didn't tell us about this? We're your friends!" "I had to swear I wouldn't, Ron, or else I wouldn't have been given it!") and what they had done with it, setting Sirius and the Hippogriff free. They were both suitably impressed, and disappointed that they hadn't been able to come as well.

There was, however, still one more hurdle to get over.

The three of them had cornered Gabriel in an abandoned classroom the day afterward.

"What's this for?" Gabriel asked as Hermione shut the door behind him.

"About yesterday," Michael said determinedly. "Harry, I really think you owe us an explanation."

Gabriel looked at Ron, who looked to be as stubborn as possible, and Hermione, who was magically locking the door. "Is that really necessary?"

"We're going to get answers," was all she said as she turned to face Gabriel. "Come on, Harry, we're your friends!"

"Yeah, I know you are." Gabriel sighed. "Okay, before I say anything, I'm going to need all of you to swear that not a word of this leaves this room."

The three of them looked at each other, curious and slightly wary.

"Alright." Michael said first. "I can do that."

"Swear it."

"I...swear I won't tell anyone about what you tell us in here."

Gabriel looked expectantly at Hermione and Ron.

"Is this really necessary?" Ron asked.

"The door's over there, if you'd like to leave."

Ron was obviously torn between doing that and satisfying his curiosity. "...I swear I won't say anything about what you tell us."

Hermione echoed him. "I swear I won't say anything about what you tell us."

Gabriel sat down on top of a dusty desk. "...It's a really long story."

"We've got time." Hermione pulled a chair over and cleaned it off before sitting down as well.

"Well..." Gabriel considered how he could go about this. "I guess it really started Halloween, 1998."

* * *

 

There was absolute silence as Gabriel finished talking.

Ron's mouth had dropped open at some point during the explanation, and Michael was staring at Gabriel in what might have been outright disbelief. Hermione had her fingers on her forehead and looked like she was getting a migraine.

"Merlin's  _ underpants. _ "

"Ron!"

" _ Angels?" _

Well, Gabriel really hadn't been expecting a better reaction.

"You're serious," Michael said. "Totally serious."

"Yeah."

"This is insane!" Ron said, shaking his head.

"More insane than finding out your rat is an Animagus in hiding?" Gabriel asked, raising one eyebrow.

Ron grimaced. "Don't remind me."

"But..." Hermione looked lost. "Angels don't exist."

"That's not true. I'm sitting right here."

"Harry, come on!"

"Hermione, look at what happened!" Gabriel spread his arms. "You know what you saw me do, that's why you cornered me in here. What other explanation do you have?"

"But if you're seriously...an  _ angel... _ then why come to Hogwarts?" Michael asked. "Shouldn't you have, I dunno, some sort of special power?"

"Technically, I do. That’s what you saw"

"Technically?" Hermione questioned.

"I told you that the whole 'ending up as Harry Potter' thing was an  _ accident.  _ Whatever that accident did, I'm having a bit of trouble getting back to full power." Gabriel gestured at himself. "Thus, here I am."

“You mean the ritual?” Michael’s eyes widened. “Is  _ that  _ what all those huge books were for?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel admitted. 

Hermione still looked doubtful. "But aren't angels supposed to have wings?"

"I do have wings. You just can't see them. Your senses literally can't comprehend them."

"This is crazy," Ron muttered again.

"What about that thing you had last night?" Hermione interrupted. "The sword thing you used."

The angel blade slid out of Gabriel's sleeve and into his hand. "You mean this?"

Michael jumped slightly as it appeared. Hermione, however, eyed it critically. "What is it?"

"It's an angel blade. Every angel has one."

"Where did it come from?"

Gabriel grinned and put a finger over his lips again. "Secret."

"Harry...er-" Hermione paused in what was obviously about to be a reprimand. "Should we call you something else?"

"I've been called Harry for the past thirteen years. It's fine."

"Do you have another name?" Michael asked, seemingly getting on board with the whole 'angel' thing.

"Yeah."

Hermione looked curious now. "What is it? I mean, from what I know of Christianity there are hundreds of angels, so you could be any one of them."

"Usually I go by Gabriel."

Hermione stared. "Gabriel? But that would mean you're-"

"An archangel? Yes, it would."

Michael and Ron looked lost - obviously, since both of them were wizard raised, they had no idea of the meaning of the word. 

"What's an archangel?" Ron asked.

Hermione was still staring at Gabriel. "They're the most powerful angels," she explained. "There are seven, I think-"

"Seven? Where'd you hear that?" Gabriel snorted. "There are three - counting me, of course."

Now all three of them were staring at him. "Who are the other two?" Ron asked.

"Michael and Raphael."

"So..." Hermione leaned forward, obviously enjoying her new source of knowledge. "They're your brothers?"

"Yeah."

"Are you older?"

"Out of the archangels, no."

"And where are your brothers, then?" Ron asked. "Do they know what happened to you?"

“...No.” Considering one was dead and the other trapped forever, it was incredibly unlikely. “I doubt they’d care.”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, frowning, but Michael interrupted. “So...you’re just walking around in someone else’s body? That’s kind of creepy. No offense.”

“It’s not the same as - not  _ quite  _ the same as possession,” Gabriel said. Ron frowned. “It’s  _ definitely  _ not like that diary.” He could see that he wasn’t really convincing them. “Look, if I  _ don’t  _ have a body to borrow, there are a lot of unpleasant consequences. I’m not meant to be able to walk around with humans like just another one of them. We’re a completely different species. Besides, I can’t borrow anyone without permission.”

“And you got permission?” Hermione asked skeptically.

“Sure,” Gabriel lied without hesitation. “It was a little confused in the heat of the moment, but I got it. How else could I be here?” How else indeed. If only he knew the answer to that question, so he could undo it. 

“What kind of consequences?” Michael asked. 

“Deadly ones, if I get close enough,” Gabriel said. They all stared. “What? I told you what I was. Angels are serious business.”

“...Right,” Ron said. “I think...I mean, I believe you, I’m just going to go...think, I guess.”

“Fine with me.” Gabriel pinned him with a look. “Don’t forget - you swore.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ron cast him a strange look as he left. Hermione watched him go, and then turned to Gabriel, opening her mouth to ask another question.

“Did I say I’m not the only angel to have been here?” Gabriel asked. “She left some pretty cool stuff behind."

* * *

 

Hermione was absolutely thrilled with Muriel's room, and even more so once she was told that Ravenclaw had actually been one of Gabriel's siblings. ("So does that mean technically you could access her vault?") and had to be practically dragged from the room, just like Gabriel had predicted.

One thing Gabriel hadn't predicted was Lupin tracking him down on the last day of term.

"Harry?" Gabriel turned around and saw the teacher standing behind him, suitcase in hand and two new scars on his face parallel to the old ones.

"I just thought," Lupin said, holding up the blank map, "that since I'm no longer a teacher I have no regrets in giving this back to you." He held it out to Gabriel.

"Thanks." Gabriel tucked it into his robes.

"I'm not going to ask about last night," Lupin said after a moment. "And I'm also not going to ask why you haven't got a name on the Map. I'm curious, I assure you, but - I understand the right to keep your secrets."

"Alright." Gabriel was honestly surprised that Lupin wasn't asking any questions. Humans were generally more curious than that. "Sorry about last night, by the way."

"It's fine. I don't blame you in the slightest."

"Why are you leaving?" Gabriel nodded towards the suitcase. "You know everyone thinks that you're the best defense professor."

"Yes, well." A small smile tugged at the corner of Lupin's mouth. "Snape didn't take Sirius's escape well, of course. Dumbledore managed to assure Fudge that I didn't mean any harm, but Snape let slip at breakfast this morning my...condition."

What an utter asshole Snape was. "That sucks."

Lupin smiled a little wider. "It does, I suppose, but I'll be fine. Goodbye, Harry."

"Goodbye."

* * *

 

Hermione, though she seemed to have endless questions, was oddly wary about asking them.

"I'm not going to smite you for asking too many questions," Gabriel told her exasperatedly on the train ride home.

"I didn't think you would, but-" Hermione paused. "Who else knows?"

"About me being Gabriel, you mean?"

"Yeah. What about your guardian?"

That was what this is about? "Trust me," said Gabriel, rolling his eyes. "He knows."

"You told him before you told us?" Michael looked a little insulted. "But I thought you just moved in with him over the summer."

"On paper, sure, he's my guardian. In reality? Not so much."

"...What's that supposed to mean? Did he just leave you on your own?"

Gabriel looked away from the window and back at Michael, eyebrows raised. "Balthazar's actually my little brother."

“What, really?”

“It’s a lot easier to live with someone who knows about me than a bunch of unpleasant humans.” Gabriel looked back out the window. After the silence from the other two dragged on, he looked back. “That wasn’t a comment on humans in general, by the way.”

“Oh.” Hermione looked relieved. “I was going to say-”

“No, no. Just them.” Gabriel kicked his feet out. “Some of my siblings don’t think so highly of humans, but I’m not one of them.”

“What  _ do _ you think of us?” Michael asked curiously. Gabriel smiled at nem.

“I think you’re neat,” he said, and laughed at Michael’s surprise. “What, too informal? I’m the same person you’ve always known.”

“We know that,” Hermione said. “It’s just...it’s not really how one thinks of angels.”

“What can I say?” Gabriel spreads his legs out on the rest of his seat. “Humanity’s rubbed off on me.”

* * *

 

King's Cross was as noisy as usual. Also per usual, Hermione made him promise to write over the summer and dashed off to join her parents.

And again, as usual, Gabriel was left to find his own way home.

"I  _ cannot wait  _ for my wings to start working again."

It took a lot of creative storytelling and charm to find a map of bus routes that could get him out to the place Balthazar had gotten, and then another hour of traveling to actually get there. Balthazar was waiting when Gabriel kicked the door open and dragged in his things.

"Hello." Balthazar was lying on the sofa with a glass in one hand.

"You lazy shit, you could have given me a ride here."

"You made it here, didn't you?"

Gabriel glared halfheartedly and let his trunk thump onto the floor. "What are you drinking?"

"I have no idea."

"Seriously?" Gabriel picked up the bottle. "Is this - Balthazar, you're drinking this rot?"

"It's wine. It's always good." Balthazar took a careful sip from his glass. The bottle was already half empty.

"It tastes horrible."

"More for me, then."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and tossed the bottle at his brother, who caught it easily. "Where've you been all year?"

"About. Why do you care?"

"You felt it when Raphael bit the dust, right?" Gabriel’s casual wording disguised the hurt it had caused him.

Balthazar sat up slowly. "Yes."

"What happened?"

"You expect me to know?"

"Yeah, I do. Because there's no way you would have just sat here when something like that happened."

"...As far as I know, Castiel succeeded in opening Purgatory."

"He  _ what?" _

"That's not all." Balthazar looked unusually grim. "Not all of it went back in."

Gabriel felt something twist inside him. "Tell me he didn't let them out."

"He did." Balthazar took another gulp of wine. "Why d'you think I'm avoiding that Earth? I'm not stupid enough to go somewhere the Leviathans are running about."

" _ Christ." _

"Are you going to do anything?"

"The way I am now? They'd kill me in a second."

Balthazar was silent for a moment. Then-

"I suppose I never liked that Earth anyway."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revisiting the supernatural 'verse a little, and...not fun times. We'll see more of them later, I promise. Later.


	28. The Triwizard Tournament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! Things are changing, and more obviously so than they were before. And not just because more than one person (i.e., Gabriel) knows about Gabriel's true identity.
> 
> Enjoy :)

Gabriel's summer was fairly boring, even having spent it with Balthazar.

He'd sent off a letter from Diagon Alley in July, after discovering the address of the Ministry of Magic, and written it to 'whoever runs the justice department around there', inquiring whether the Minister seriously intended to pretend that he'd never discovered that Sirius Black had never been given a trial.

This was not out of any sort of presumed bond with Sirius, but rather, Gabriel hadn't done anything remotely Trickster-like in ages and was incredibly bored.

The hastily-written letter he got back several weeks later from someone named Madam Bones, plus the included copy of the newspaper announcing the judicial mistake, made it all worth it.

(Unfortunately, Fudge had managed to retain his position as Minister by blaming the mishap on his predecessor).

Sirius sent a letter as well in late August, letting Gabriel know that he'd been cleared of all charges once they had bothered to use some Veritaserum on him. Gabriel had no idea what Veritaserum was, but he did speak Latin, which was enough to figure out it's general use.

There was also an offer to come visit, which Gabriel declined. Sirius was sure to have questions, and he didn't intend to let anyone else know about the whole angel thing. Especially not someone he'd met less than a year ago.

Sirius would just have to deal with it.

* * *

 

There were still two weeks left in summer break when the invitation arrived.

The owl which carried it had arrived bedraggled and supported by two others, one of which carried a Hogwarts letter and the other one from Michael (who was forwarding one from Hermione).

The invitation was from Ron, and it was to some sort of event called the Quidditch World Cup. He'd included a PS ('I don't know if you like that kind of stuff but you're welcome to come - Dad's got extra tickets from work, Hermione will be there too') and since Michael was apparently going as well, Gabriel was seriously wondering whether to stifle his dislike of Quidditch and accept.

"What's that?"

"It's none of your business Balthazar."

"Why are there owls on the table."

"How many times do I have to explain that it's how wizards send letters?"

Gabriel ended up declining. Seeing Michael and Hermione wasn't enough to make up for sitting through what could potentially be a twenty-four-hour match, and the letter he wrote back said exactly that.

Besides, he'd see them when school started anyway.

* * *

 

" _ Who  _ was at the world cup?"

"Death Eaters," Hermione repeated. She and Gabriel were sitting opposite each other in a compartment on the Hogwarts express, which also held Michael, Ron, and Draco (who had shown up again).

"Why on Earth were they at the world cup?" Gabriel asked incredulously, holding the newspaper Hermione had handed him. The front page featured a picture of an eerie green skull hanging over what must have been the stadium, a snake winding under and through it. Gabriel recognized it from the newspapers about Death Eaters he'd shifted through in first year.

"I've no idea," Hermione shrugged.

"Are you alright?"

"We're fine," Michael said. "Good thing you didn't come, huh?"

"No, I should've. If I'd known this was going to happen-"

"It's fine." Ron said. "We weren't hurt - and anyway they scarpered as soon as the mark went up."

Gabriel frowned. "They ran when their own mark went up? That doesn't make sense."

"I suppose not." Hermione shrugged again. "But we've got no way of knowing what happened. And do you know what else? They blamed a house-elf!"

"They blamed a what?" House-elves again?  


"Crouch's house-elf," Michael explained. "They found her with a wand a couple feet away. I mean, obviously she didn't put it up, but Crouch still sacked her."

"Who's Crouch?"

"Some Ministry official."

"He works for the DMLE," Ron elaborated. "Department of Magical Law Enforcement," he added when everyone but Draco and Michael looked at him blankly.

Gabriel snorted as he tossed the newspaper down. "And they didn't have anyone there in case something went wrong?"

Ron frowned. "You're saying they should have expected it?"

"I'm saying there were, what, a thousand wizards in the same place and there were no authority figures to do crowd control? Muggles know better than that."

"He has a point," Hermione said, glancing over at Draco. "What do you think?"

It took Malfoy a minute to realize he was being addressed. "Wh - about the DMLE already being there?"

"Yeah," Michael said. "It would've helped a lot."

Draco seemed uncomfortable. "I suppose it would have."

Ron scowled. "I bet you were glad they weren't, though."

"Ron-"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco snapped.

"It means your dad was probably there in a mask-"

"Enough!" Gabriel snapped,  and held up a hand towards Draco. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to you two argue. Boo hoo, your fathers don't get along, get over it." It was more than that and he knew it, but he didn’t have patience for it now. 

There was a moment of very tense silence as Draco and Ron glared at each other. Then, abruptly, Draco looked away.

"So what do you think of this year's event?" Draco asked out of the blue, most likely trying to change the topic.

Hermione looked nonplussed. "What event?"

"You mean you don't know?" Draco looked genuinely surprised.

"What is going on this year?" Ron asked irritably. "Charlie and Bill wouldn't tell anyone!"

"It's the Triwizard Tournament!"

"The what now?" Gabriel asked in confusion.

"The triwizard tournament," Draco repeated, looking around. Michael and Ron traded  _ what is he talking about  _ looks. Even Hermione looked curious. "Don't tell me none of you have ever heard of it!"

"Alright, we won't." Gabriel leaned forward. "What is it?"

Draco looked like he was sorely tempted to roll his eyes. "Well, it's a tournament, obviously - Hogwarts is hosting this year, and two other schools will be visiting. Each school submits a champion, and then there are a couple tasks that the champions compete in to see who wins the tournament - a cash prize and a trophy."

"Wow." Ron looked impressed.

"What other schools?" Hermione asked. "I was never sure how many there were-"

"There are eleven. Beauxbatons - that's the French school - are probably coming, since they're so close, and I think Father said that the third school was going to be Durmstrang." Draco seemed to be enjoying his temporary status as being the most knowledgeable about something.

"Isn't that a northern school?" Michael looked like ne was trying to remember something ne'd learned a long time ago. "Up in the Scandinavian countries or something."

"I've no idea. Father wanted to send me there originally, but I ended up coming here, obviously." Draco cleared his throat. "Do you think you'd enter?"

"Maybe," said Ron. "Sounds pretty good - cash prize and all."

"I don't know." Hermione petted Crookshanks absentmindedly. "Maybe. It would depend what these tasks were, of course."

Michael glanced over at Gabriel. "What do you think?"

"Doesn't sound very interesting." Draco looked incredulous at that.

"Not interesting?" Draco said disbelievingly. Gabriel shrugged.

"I just don't think I'd enter myself." He paused. "Is there a rule that you have to enter yourself?"

"I've got no idea. Probably not."

"Excellent."

* * *

 

There seemed to be more empty seats than usual at the staff table that year. From his place at the Ravenclaw table, Gabriel saw that Hagrid was missing and McGonagall was also gone - again, the first years.

Professor Lupin was nowhere to be seen, since he'd resigned last year, so there had to be a new teacher. But there were no new faces at the table, so either something had gone wrong or they were very late.

Lightning flashed across the roof of the hall, followed almost immediately by a clap of thunder that sounded like someone was throwing a huge temper tantrum upstairs and directly over Hogwarts. The doors at the end of the hall opened to receive a line of bedraggled first-years, who all looked completely soaked. One of them was wearing Hagrid's enormous coat, and looked to be the smallest, though this might have been the contradictory size of the coat.

The Sorting Hat broke into its new song, which Gabriel completely ignored in favor of frowning up at the sky. That was two years in a row that horrible weather had greeted them on the first day back. This year it was worse than ever. And while Gabriel didn't like to fiddle with fortune-telling, he couldn't help but feel that it was a little ominous.

Once everyone had found a House and sat down, Dumbledore smiled widely.

"I have only two words to say to you," he announced. "Tuck in."

Food appeared on the plates in front of them, the hall suddenly filling with the smell of it. Michael watched curiously as Gabriel served himself.

"Do you really need it?" Ne asked quietly among the chatter surrounding them. Gabriel shook his head.

"I didn't think it would be good to just eat nothing at meals, though, and I'm not letting everyone in on it."

"Makes sense."

Dinner disappeared quickly, and was replaced almost instantly with dessert. When they too vanished (unfortunately) Dumbledore got to his feet. Any talk immediately ceased, everyone looking up towards the staff table.

"So! Now that we are all fed and watered, I have a few start-of-term announcements to give out!" Dumbledore was smiling genially, which seemed to be his default expression.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind you that the list of forbidden objects has been extended this year to include Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list, which is made up of some four hundred and thirty-seven objects-" Gabriel immediately resolved to find that list, if only to see how there could be over four hundred objects on it. "-can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it." Where was the caretaker's office again?

"As ever, I would like to remind you that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?!"

"Michael sit down!" Gabriel pulled Michael back into nir seat. Michael still looked outraged.

"They can't do that!" The majority of the students seemed to agree with Michael, muttering not entirely complimentary things about the decision.

Dumbledore continued over the sudden, outraged swell of noise. "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teacher's time and energy - but I am sure you all will enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year, Hogwarts-"

At that exact moment, there was a deafening clap of thunder, and the doors to the hall swung open with a bang.

There was a man silhouetted in the doorway, wearing a long coat and leaning on a staff. As lightning flashed across the ceiling, he stepped forward into the hall, walking with purpose towards the staff table, a dull  _ clunk  _ sounding with every other step.

When he reached Dumbledore, he and the headmaster spoke quietly for a moment before the man took the only empty seat at the table.

"Our new Defense professor," Dumbledore said, the words echoing in the absolute silence of the hall, "Professor Moody." Only he and Hagrid clapped, and even then the scant applause died out quickly.

"Moody?" Michael whispered. "As in, Mad-Eye Moody?"

Well, that nickname was obvious enough. Moody had a fake eye, large and electric blue, and it moved around completely independent of his real one.

"As I was saying," Dumbledore continued, "This year, Hogwarts has the honor of hosting the Triwizard Tournament."

"You're joking!" Someone said loudly from the Gryffindor table. There was a smattering of laughter.

"I am not," Dumbledore said. "Though I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a banshee all walking into a bar...but perhaps now is not the time," he said hurriedly as McGonagall glared at the headmaster from her seat next to him. "Where was I...oh yes, the Triwizard Tournament. Some of you may not know what this entails, so I hope those of you who do will forgive me for a short explanation.

As Dumbledore explained the details of the competition, Gabriel listened intently. When Dumbledore mentioned mortal danger, he raised his eyebrows. This was the competition that everybody was so excited for?

Well - with a thousand Galleons as a prize, it wasn’t so surprising. Humans would be humans.

Once Dumbledore was finished, there was a great scraping of chairs and an explosion of talk, as everyone stood up and began chatting with their neighbors at once.

"An age limit," Michael snorted. "Of course."

"You weren't seriously going to try and compete, were you?" Gabriel shot nir a look. "Death toll?"

"I heard Dumbledore too, Harry." Michael replied. Dumbledore had gone into great detail explaining how everyone under seventeen was forbidden and would be prevented from entering. "I just thought it would be cool - and a thousand Galleons, come on."

"What do you need that much money for?"

The Ravenclaws as a group chattered excitedly as they were led up to the dorms, and even when everyone had gone up to the dorms they were still talking. Anthony and whoever had the bed next to him were having a hushed conversation about whether they'd be able to get over the age limit.

"The judge can't be that hard to fool-"

"Go to sleep, you idiots." Gabriel tossed the nearest pillow not underneath his head at them.

Tournament or no, he was getting some sleep because damnit his Grace still hadn't changed at all, and Gabriel was going to figure out the answer to that problem whatever it took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so begins fourth year!
> 
> I bet you can't guess what happens next chapter.


	29. The Goblet of Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And not only is the Goblet making appearances, but so are all those other lovely guests...and I have been reminded that I never told you earlier, but there are several brand new characters set to make an appearance soon enough! 
> 
> Family members always shake things up a little bit, and hey, the story could use that. Don't you agree?

Gabriel woke up disconcerted.

He'd felt like he'd had a dream again. Once was weird enough, but twice meant something might actually be going on - that, or his Grace was getting worse and not better. The most frustrating thing was his complete inability to remember anything that had happened in them, if anything had. There was just the vague sense of being someplace odd.

And then he woke up.

It was maddening.

Classes were not as bad. Luckily, Gabriel had been able to give up Divination, or they might have been a lot worse. Arithmancy was rather easy - the only difficult part was the time-consuming nature of the calculations.

Moody and his Defense class, however, was difficult to categorize.

He was certainly a decent teacher - determined to teach them spells and the like. But he had an odd way of going about it.

"Curses!" He barked at the class once attendance was done. "You've got a good grounding in creatures, but you're behind - very behind - in dealing with curses."

Several people glanced curiously at each other, but most were paying attention to Moody.

"According to the Ministry, I'm suppose to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you illegal, Dark curses until you're in sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with them until then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of you! He reckons you can cope, and I say the sooner you know what you're up against, the better prepared you'll be. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? You can't. You need to be alert. You need to be vigilant."

Moody turned around and scrawled  _ Unforgivable Curses  _ on the blackboard. "Who can tell me what an unforgivable curse is?"

Several people warily raised their hands. Moody pointed at a Hufflepuff on the other side of the room. "You. What are they?"

"They're the three worst curses, sir," the Hufflepuff answered. "You go straight to Azkaban if you use one."

"Exactly. Who thinks they know what the three curses are?" Moody looked around expectantly.

There were a few more hesitantly raised hands.

"You. Corner."

"Er...the Imperius curse."

"Yes, that's one." Moody plunked down a jar containing spiders on his desk. "Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time...couldn't sort out who was fighting willingly and who was under someone else's control."

He dipped a hand into the jar and dumped one of the spiders onto the table.

" _ Imperio." _

* * *

 

The demonstration, in Gabriel's mind, had been entirely unnecessary.

A lot of the class had been disturbed by the Cruciatus curse, and the Imperius was just creepy. The Killing curse was almost an insult - death was never meant to be something handled so lightly.

Moody seemed to have impressed most people, however, and again Gabriel wondered why these students were so calm. They'd seen a teacher use a death curse, and a torture curse, in front of them, and no one seemed to fully realize the implications of how easily those spells could be used on humans, and not just spiders.

Moody's lesson on curses, however, was the last thing on Gabriel's mind.

Hermione found him and Michael by the library on Monday (Michael had to do a Divination project) with a box full of brightly-colored badges which rattled around.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows at the badges. "What are those?" They all bore the same four letters: SPEW.

Michael picked one up curiously. "Spew?"

"S-P-E-W," Hermione corrected. "It stands for the Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare."

"Never heard of it." Michael let the blue badge fall back into the box.

"Well, it's not a real organization yet," Hermione admitted. "I've only just started it."

"Seriously?" Michael asked in surprise. "What's got you so riled up about the house-elves?"

"Didn't you see the way Crouch treated his at the World Cup?" Hermione demanded. "We've got to do something!"

Gabriel joined the conversation. "And something would be...?"

"Freeing them!"

_ "Free  _ them?" Michael asked incredulously.

"Yes." Hermione looked put out. "I'd have thought  _ you'd _ agree!"

"Hermione, trying to get better conditions is one thing...but freeing them? House elves don't want to be freed!" Michael looked awkward. “I’m not saying Crouch should be allowed to do that...”

“Hold on,” Gabriel said. “Explain house elves to me a little more thoroughly, please?” He’d only ever met Dobby, and he wasn’t sure the elf was a good example of the species.

The longer Hermione talked, though, the more that opinion changed.

“Well,” Gabriel sighed, “that’s not going to be fun. Or easy.”

Hermione looked insulted. “If you’re not going to help-”

“I didn’t say that.” Gabriel picked out a yellow button examined it. “I said ‘not easy’. If they’re convinced they want to stay where they are, there’s not going to be much you can do about that.” With magic in the picture, everything got complicated.

Michael hesitated, and took a blue button. “We’ll work it out, I suppose,” ne said, and Hermione beamed at the two of them.

* * *

 

Their next Defense class, Moody announced his intention to put them under the Imperius curse to test their resistance to it. There was an underlying current of nervousness as Moody swept the desks to the side to create a clear space in the center of the room. Gabriel wondered if he was seriously allowed to use illegal curses on students - had Dumbledore given him permission or something?

It didn't seem like something the old headmaster would allow, but it wasn't Gabriel's business - he only kept an eye on Michael when ne went under, and all Michael ended up doing was trying to jump over one of the desks. Ne seemed very embarrassed when ne stood up again, and Michael kept nir head ducked as ne retreated back to where Gabriel was standing.

"I'm not doing that again," ne muttered as Moody barked "Potter! You're next!"

Gabriel stood up, and a single stride brought him to the center of the room. Moody raised his wand.

" _ Imperio!" _

It was a very odd sensation, as though something very soft were being shoved insistently on his forehead. Something which contained a speaker of some sort which was talking to him faintly. Gabriel ignored it and gave Moody a  _ well? Go on  _ look.

Moody seemed impressed. "D'you see that?" He barked at the rest of the class. "Potter's resisting!" He looked back at Gabriel, and the shoving and the faint voice grew slightly more insistent. Gabriel continued ignoring it and stood perfectly still in the center of the classroom.

Moody took another five minutes to give up on ever getting through to Gabriel, and by that time class was nearly over. Moody dismissed them early and they all scattered, eagerly discussing the class.

"That's not really fair," Michael muttered. "It's just because of what you are."

"It's because I have better mental protection," Gabriel corrected. "Species has nothing to do with it."

“Still.” Michael looked put out. “You can’t teach that, can you?”

“‘Fraid not.”

* * *

 

There was a notice pinned up in the entrance hall before dinner that night, announcing that the foreign visitors would be arriving a week from then on the thirtieth. That left only one day for anyone to submit their name, Gabriel noticed, but everyone else was buzzing with the news.

"Lessons end half an hour early!" Michael read cheerfully. "I wonder how they're getting here...I don't think they'd take the train."

"I'm sure they've got their own methods," Gabriel said, frowning, since he was still too short to read the notice properly over the crowd. Not that his last vessel had been much taller, but still.

The sign going up caused a flurry of fresh interest in the tournament. People swapped ideas as to how the other two schools were going to arrive, who was going to be Hogwarts champion, what the students of the other two schools were like.

The school was changing a bit as well. The paintings were suddenly brighter and the frames less grimy, the suits of armor suddenly polished and not at all squeaky. Even the teachers were affected by the mood, tenser as if trying to make sure that every single student made a good impression on the guests. The caretaker, Filch, was behaving so ferociously to anyone who made the slightest mess that Gabriel was a minute away from pulling another Trickster move.

And then, October thirtieth came.

When they all came down to breakfast it was to discover that the hall had been decorated. Large, sheer banners now decorated the walls, one for each House and emblazoned with the four crests. Behind the teacher's table an even larger banner showed the Hogwarts coat of arms around a large letter H.

There was a simultaneously pleasant and nervous air that day - even Gabriel, who spared barely any attention to the proceedings, felt it. Nobody paid much attention in their lessons, the idea of the upcoming arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students proving to be much more interesting. When the bell rang early everyone hurried to put their things away and rush back down to the entrance hall.

The four heads of Houses were ordering their students into neat rows and moving along the students, snapping for people to fix their hats or remove that ridiculous thing from your hair, Miss Patil.

"Follow me, please!" Flitwick called as loudly as he could. "First years in front, and no pushing!"

They all gathered in front of the castle after descending the tall set of stairs. That evening was cold and clear, and a pale moon was already hovering over the forest.

"Nearly six," Michael muttered, checking nir watch. "No ideas as to how they're going to get here?"

"No more than the last six time you asked," Gabriel muttered.

There were several moments of silence, and the other students shivered while Gabriel wondered if the foreign students were just planning a dramatic entrance to show off. Then Dumbledore called out.

"Aha! Unless I am much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

Everyone started looking around, trying to spot what the headmaster had. Then someone else shouted "Look!"

Oh, very helpful.

But it was becoming readily apparent what they were looking at. Something was soaring closer in the sky, getting bigger with each passing second.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years.

"Don't be stupid, it's a flying house!"

The second guess turned out to be closer. A gigantic, powder-blue carriage thudded to the ground, pulled by a team of horses easily the size of elephants, which all had even larger wings and fiery red eyes. It was a little disconcerting, seeing as the last time Gabriel had gone up against something with red eyes like that, it had been a Knight of Hell.

The doors of the carriage bore a coat of arms, two crossed wands emitting sparks, but there was no time to look closer as the door sprang open. A boy in pale blue robes jumped to the ground and fumbled with something at the bottom of the doorway before a set of steps sprang out. The woman who left the carriage next immediately explained the large scale.

She was just as tall as Hagrid, looming over the crowd, and was olive-skinned. Her robes were some sort of black, sheer material, and dragged slightly on the floor as she walked forward, the students parting in front of her.

Dumbledore began to clap, and everyone else soon followed. While the large woman had been striding forward, about a dozen boys and girls, all dressed in the same blue robes that nearly matched the carriage, had exited as well, and they were all standing around awkwardly and shivering. Their robes, obviously, were not meant to stand up to a Scottish evening in October. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around themselves, but these were similarly useless.

"Madam Maxine," Dumbledore greeted the woman. "How nice to see you again. Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbledore," Maxine replied. She had a very thick accent which contorted her words so that it sounded more like  _ Dumbly-dorr. " _ I hope I find you well?" Her h's were nearly silent.

"In excellent form, thank you." Dumbledore was smiling graciously. "Would you and your students like to go inside and warm up, or would you like to wait for the Durmstrang students? They have not yet arrived."

"Warm up, I think," Maxine answered. "But the horses-"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures professor will be delighted to take care of them." Dumbledore said instantly. "I assure you, he is up to the job."

Maxine looked as though she rather doubted that Hagrid could handle them, but didn't protest further. "Please inform him - they drink only single-malt whiskey."

Single? Lightweights.

"Come," Maxine said imperiously to her students. They all followed obediently as she led them up the stairs to the entrance hall, the crowd parting again to let the students through.

Many people were now gazing up at the sky hopefully, probably wishing that Durmstrang would come soon, but Gabriel doubted they'd use the same method. Wizards seemed to like to show off - no doubt they would use some other crazy method to get to Hogwarts.

"Can you hear that?" Michael asked suddenly.

The crowd went quiet as the strange noise grew louder, trying to figure out what it was. It was vaguely reminiscent of water draining after someone had pulled the plug.

"The lake!" Someone shouted, and the attention of the crowd turned.

There was something similar to a drain in the lake, water swirling around and falling. From their position at the base of the stairs, it was only too easy to see down the hill to the lake.

Gabriel craned his neck up to see properly. There was something rising out of the whirlpool, something long and thin and followed by something much bigger.

It was a  _ ship. _

The portholes were lit with a pale, misty light, making the ship look dark and ghostly as it rose out of the water and glided towards the bank. Movement began, and it became apparent what the movement was as people started disembarking and making their way up the lawn.

All the students looked large and hulking, but as they get closer Gabriel saw that it was just their robes, which were made out of thick fur. As the Durmstrang students passed, led by a man with a white goatee, a wave of muttering rippled over the crowd of Hogwarts students.

"Oh my God, it’s Krum!" Michael started and looked at Gabriel, as if realizing what ne'd said. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Who was Krum? He certainly seemed to be popular, from the reaction from the English students. Most of the attention seemed fixed on a taller boy at the front, walking next to the man with the goatee. There were several girls wondering whether he'd autograph their hats in lipstick. Gabriel assumed he was Krum.

The man with the goatee certainly seemed to pay him special attention as they all walked back into the school, the Durmstrang students at the front.

"You haven't got a quill," Michael asked Gabriel, "Have you?"

"No. What do you need a quill for?"

"Don't you know who he is?" Michael seemed astonished.

Gabriel gave him a dry look. "Michael. Why would I?"

"Right. But that's  _ Krum.  _ Best Seeker ever - I'd no idea he was still in school. He played at the cup, you know."

"Thrilling." So he was a sports star. That would account for why everyone seemed to know him, despite the magical world having no internet.

The great hall seemed more packed than usual, though there were barely twenty extra students. It might have been the stark difference between their robes and the black Hogwarts ones - the Durmstrang students, once they took off their furs, were revealed to have robes of bright red.

The Beauxbatons students settled at the Ravenclaw, not very close to where Gabriel and Michael ended up sitting. They seemed to be primarily girls, though there were several boys, and Gabriel wondered how they'd chosen who was going to come. Was it based on talent? Did they only bring those who were seventeen or older?

Durmstrang ended up at the Slytherin table, something Draco looked thrilled about. Gabriel saw him lean over to talk to the Quidditch star. Those from Durmstrang seemed much more impressed than the French, looking up at the ceiling and examining the gold plates, apparently impressed.

There were four extra chairs at the staff table, two on either side of the headmaster. "What do they need four for?" Gabriel asked aloud, attracting Michael's attention. "There are only two headmasters, who are the other two for?"

"Dunno," Michael said, glancing up. "Maybe someone else is coming?"

Dumbledore, Maxine, and the man with the goatee (who Gabriel had heard Dumbledore call Karkaroff) were last to enter the hall. The Beauxbatons students all leaped to their feet when their headmistress entered. Some of the Hogwarts students laughed, but the blue-robed students appeared completely unembarrassed, and continued standing until Maxine had sat down at the staff table.

They must institute more respectful policies at Beauxbatons. Sure, all the Hogwarts students called their teachers 'professor', but they never went quite as far as the French, apparently, did.

Dumbledore remained standing, ready to give a speech. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," he said, eyes still twinkling and that had to be a spell. There was no way they did that naturally. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts! I hope and trust your stay here will be both enjoyable and comfortable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls laughed derisively. She was still clutching a muffler around her head. Should have come better prepared.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore continued on, not remarking on the interruption. "I invite you all, for now, to eat, drink, and make yourself at home!"

He sat down. Karkaroff immediately leaned forward to speak to him, but whatever he said was covered by the chatter that sprang up with the food on the plates.

There was much more variety that night - foreign dishes decorated the tables, no doubt in honor of the guests. There was a sort of stew another table over that Gabriel vaguely recognized as being French, but he'd never been one for food - there had never really been a need to eat, and if he did it was usually candy.

The girl with the muffler turned a lot of heads when she finally took it off, revealing a long sheet of silvery hair. Gabriel had to smack Michael's shoulder to get nem to stop staring at her.

"That's not normal," Michael muttered, ducking nir gaze back to nir food.

"You're saying she's not normal?" Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Michael, we're sitting in wizard school. What about this is normal?"

Michael was distracted from replying - no doubt something terribly witty that would render Gabriel completely speechless - by movement at the head table.

The two empty seats had been filled by unfamiliar men, one dressed in bright yellow robes. The other had a toothbrush mustache, and looked so official he stood out from everyone else at the table. He must have been a bureaucrat.

"What's he doing here?" Michael asked blankly.

"Who?"

"The one in the yellow robes - he was at the cup, came by while I was talking to Ron. Works at the Ministry for some department - maybe games and sports?"

"That would explain why he'd be here," Gabriel agreed, not looking back up at the staff table. He was already getting tired of people talking about nothing but the tournament. This year was going to take forever.

Everyone seemed eager to get dinner over with; they still had no clue who the 'impartial judge' was going to be, and tomorrow they would be picking the names of the champions. When the last bit of dessert vanished from the plates, nearly everyone turned expectantly towards the staff table.

Dumbledore stood up once more.

"The moment has come!" He announced. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket-"

Casket? Were they going to reanimate some sort of long-dead judge to pick and choose? Wizards. Gabriel stopped paying attention and instead looked up at the new arrivals at the staff table. The one with the weird mustache rubbed him the wrong way; something about the man was just off, though if he was a politician that could be easily explained.

Gabriel had never liked politicians. They were too wrapped up in their own motives and ideas, and not those of the people they were supposed to represent. Too easily corrupt. During his time as the Trickster, he'd dealt out justice to more than one senator or governor or something of the sort.

Filch disturbed his thoughts by hauling forward a large, jewel-encrusted chest. The tense atmosphere seemed to sharpen as he placed it right in front of the staff table, in the spot where the sorting hat stood at the beginning of every year.

Dumbledore opened it with his wand and drew out a rough-hewn wooden cup, which might have been entirely unremarkable save for the fact that it was full of dancing, blue-white flames.

Gabriel sat up straighter in interest. This was new.

Dumbledore closed the casket again and placed the Goblet carefully on top, where everyone could see it.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly on a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to submit themselves. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it feels are most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely available to those wishing to compete.

Gabriel ignored the rest of the speech in favor of staring at the Cup with narrowed eyes. Despite having lived so long, it was very rare that he stumbled across an artifact like that. It was clearly made by wizards, but possessed power all the same, and the flames cast a blue glow across the hall which made it look rather eerie.

This would require a closer look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel, you have no idea how interesting that Goblet is.


	30. Champions and Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I skipped through things pretty fast, I know, but it hasn't been that long and Gabriel doesn't pay much attention to classes. Besides, this is what we all really want to read about, anyway.

The hall was completely silent that night as Gabriel slipped through the doors, discarding the invisibility cloak as he did so. The Goblet still cast its blue glow, but now there was another source of light as well. A gold circle was inscribed on the floor around it, occasionally flaring up as if mimicking the flames in the cup.

Gabriel stood for several moments, watching it silently. It was nearly midnight, and it had been only too easy to get out of Ravenclaw tower and down to the entrance hall.

The Goblet was very strange.

It might have been because it was of wizard make, or from this universe in general, but Gabriel had never encountered anything quite like it. It was powerful, yes, and the magic with which it was imbued with was nearly as bright as the fire which filled it. It might have been difficult to look at, if Gabriel were really human.

But then, if he were human, he wouldn't be able to see it at all.

Gabriel dropped his gaze to the gold line in the floor, obviously the age line. Snorting, he stepped over it to take a closer look at the goblet. Like that would do anything to stop him.

Taking a closer look, it became apparent to Gabriel that there were minuscule runes overlaying the goblet. They weren't carved - someone had to have written them on with a wand somehow.

"Interesting." The runes turned the cup into something resembling an artificial intelligence, though it was nowhere near what most would call sentient. It was more along the lines of a computer program. Gabriel stood up and tilted his head back to regard the flames. It was impossible to identify exactly which spell was creating them, among the mess which were meshed together.

Gabriel smirked. "Quite a relic, but I've seen better." He dug in his pocket. "Now where did I put those?" He pulled out a small stack of names. "There we go. Let's see, who do I want to piss off the most?"

It was a very close match. Gabriel ended up dumping the entire pile in. Serve them right. Let's see what Lucifer and Michael thought of a binding magical contract. Assholes.

Gabriel spun on his heel and turned to leave, stooping to pick up the cloak on his way out and closing the door behind him.

Because of that, he didn't see the person enter on the other side of the hall.

* * *

 

Halloween was full of muttering and even more speculation about who will enter and who will be chosen for the various schools. In this way, Gabriel learned a lot more about the possible competitors than he'd ever cared to know. Fred and George had ended up with impressive beards trying to beat the age line with some aging potion - so did one of the Ravenclaw girls in Gabriel's year, apparently.

People were gossiping over who had put their name in, and house rivalries were stronger than ever as each House tried to insist that one of their own would win the title of champion. Honestly, it was all anyone ever talked about anymore. Even Hermione came over to discuss it with Michael. Gabriel was almost ready to go and hide somewhere under the invisibility cloak to avoid yet more questions being thrown back and forth about the tournament.

The usual Halloween decorations were in place - colored candles, huge carved pumpkins, live bats fluttering to and fro. They didn't draw much attention, but the Beauxbatons students all lining up to put their names in did.

Halloween night came quickly and at the same time too slowly. The Goblet had been moved so that it now stood in front of Dumbledore's empty chair, and people cast glances through it all through dinner. When the plates finally cleared themselves (to Gabriel's disappointment - it was Halloween after all) Dumbledore rose to speak.

"The Goblet is ready to make its decision," he announced. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. When the champion's names are called, I would ask that they come up here and along the table, and exit through this door." He gestured towards a door to the right of where he was sitting, which most likely led into another room. "There, they will receive their instructions for the first task."

Dumbledore raised his wand and made a sweeping movement with it. At once, all the candles save those in the pumpkins were extinguished, creating a dramatic lighting effect. The goblet was the brightest thing in the room, and nearly everyone's eyes were trained on it.

The flames in the goblet abruptly turned red and flared up, becoming much taller with a sound like a high wind. A tongue of flame shot into the air along with a scrap of parchment, which Dumbledore reached out and caught. He held it at arm's length, to read it by the light of the fire, which had gone back to blue.

"The champion for Durmstrang is Viktor Krum!"

The red-robed students broke into especially loud cheers as applause swept the hall. The person who was presumably Viktor stood up and made his way up to the teacher's table, Karkaroff grinning widely at him as he passed and the door closing with a thud behind him.

The flames turned red once more and another piece of parchment shot out, which was again caught.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"

More cheering, though many of the other Beauxbatons students looked rather upset. One of them actually dissolved into tears, while Fleur (who was the same girl who had captivated so many of the boys) followed Krum's path up to the door.

Red flames, flaring up, parchment, catch for the third time.

"The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!"

Gabriel had no idea who that was.

The Hufflepuff table exploded into cheers, jumping to their feet and yelling. The boy who must have been Cedric was grinning broadly as he made his way forward, and the applause lasted so long that it took Dumbledore several minutes to make himself heard again.

"Well!" He said, smiling. "Now we have our three champions! I am sure I can count on every one of you to give them your full support. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute a very real-"

He stopped in the middle of his sentence. The reason was obvious.

The Goblet had flared red again, sparks pouring from the cup and a fourth piece of parchment shooting into the air. Dumbledore caught it and stared at it for a moment and Gabriel didn't need him to say the name aloud to know whose it was.

The sudden grip of something seizing very tightly around his magical core told him exactly what that parchment said.

"Harry Potter!"

Damn the Halloween bad luck!

* * *

 

The door creaked as Gabriel pushed it open. It led into a smaller antechamber which was full of shelves piled with all sorts of things, but Gabriel didn't pay attention to it. He was busy composing a Trickster-worthy payback for whatever jackass had decided to put his vessel's name in the Goblet and really, they'd put up a defense to stop people from aging themselves put nothing to stop a person from putting someone else's name in?

Well, that had worked in his favor last night, but regardless. It was stupid.

The other three champions (and why of all things did Gabriel have to be dragged into  _ this? _ ) were standing around a small fireplace, where several chairs had been left. They turned to face Gabriel as he got closer.

"What is it?" Cedric asked. "Do they want us to come back into the hall?"

They thought he was here to deliver a message. How ironic, considering Gabriel's past occupation. Gabriel's retort was lost as the door banged open behind them.

"Extraordinary!" said the man who had been wearing yellow robes, walking speedily towards them. Gabriel had no idea who he was. "Really quite amazing! Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the  _ fourth _ triwizard champion!"

"The what?" Krum said incredulously, but just then Dumbledore caught up.

"Harry," he said severely, "Did you put your name in the goblet of fire?"

"Of course not," Gabriel scoffed.

"Did you get an older student to put it in for you?"

"No."

"But of course he is lying!" Maxine scowled, batting a lamp out of her way and causing it to swing wildly. Gabriel gave her a dirty look which was lost in the sudden arrival of Karkaroff and the other man.

Cedric and Fleur were looking at Gabriel incredulously. 

"There must have been a mistake," Fleur said, her own accent flavoring the words. "He cannot compete! He is too young."

_ Excuse me?  _ Gabriel was older than her entire family line. And then some. If anything, he was too old.

"What is the meaning of this?" Karkaroff demanded. "I wasn't aware of a rule saying that the host school was allowed  _ two _ champions, Dumbledore. We were under the impression that your age line would keep out any underage competitors."

"He could not have crossed the age line," McGonagall protested, having come in as well.

"Then you must have made a mistake with the line!" Maxine insisted.

"It is entirely possible, of course." Dumbledore allowed.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well that you didn't make a mistake!" McGonagall said angrily. "Harry could not have crossed it, and as Dumbledore believes that he did not get someone else to put his name in that should be good enough for all of you!"

She cast a severe gaze around. Gabriel tried not to laugh. Of course he could cross the age line, but it wasn't like any of them knew that.

"Mr. Crouch...Mr. Bagman," Karkaroff said after several moments of silence. "You are our - er - objective judges. What do you say?"

The mustached man - Crouch, maybe - was standing half in shadow so that he looked like some sort of villain. The mustache didn't help.

"We must follow the rules," he said, "And the rules state that whoever's name comes out of the goblet of fire, they are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rulebook back to front," said the man who was most likely Bagman. He looked strangely happy about the whole situation.

"I insist upon resubmitting the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He looked furious, and had dropped his smile. Gabriel stopped paying attention to the argument and refocused on the other three champions, all of whom had been relatively quiet.

They all looked to be in various stages of either disbelief, outrage, or just not caring. Fleur had turned her back to the conversation and had taken a seat in one of the armchairs.

The conversation didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. Moody had entered at one point, and Karkaroff seemed a bit terrified of him. Strange. Gabriel leaned against the shelf next to him and wondered if he'd ever be allowed to leave the room, or if they were going to keep arguing about the tournament.

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it." Moody growled.

That brought Gabriel's attention back. If this was some sort of assassination plot, then it was very poorly thought out. He almost snorted at the idea of one of the tasks killing him. Please.

They took forever to figure it out, but eventually they all decided that Gabriel had to compete -  _ which he already knew.  _ But no. It wasn't like there was a binding magical contract that had already established itself.

Gabriel tugged on the binding around his magical core. It was very solidly in place. Damnit.

"Mr. Crouch?"

The man with the mustache - Crouch - stepped forward. He looked mildly ill. "Yes...the first task..."

"The first task is designed to test your daring, so we are not going to be telling you what it is," he said to Gabriel and the other three. "Courage in the face of the unknown is a very important quality in a wizard...very important...

"The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help from teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first task armed only with their wands. You will receive information about the second task at the end of the first. Owing to the demanding nature of the tasks, you will all be exempt from end-of-year exams."

Hello, silver lining.

The champions left fairly quickly, Maxine leading Fleur away as they spoke rapidly in French. Dumbledore looked at Cedric and Gabriel and said only, 

"Well! I suppose you two had better go up to bed. I am sure Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you."

Gabriel went off immediately. Cedric followed behind him, and as they both came out into the now-empty hall Gabriel felt a hand on his shoulder.

"How did you do it?" Cedric asked. "You know...get your name in."

"I didn't put mine in." Gabriel gave Cedric a dry look. "Why would I want to?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Cedric looked astonished. "The prize, of course."

"You mean glory, money, and the cup?" Gabriel raised his hands to tick them off on his fingers. "Fame - got that already, don't need more. Money? Got that too. Fancy trophy? Useless." He dropped his hands again. "So no, I didn't enter myself. Have fun doing whatever the hell Hufflepuffs do."

Gabriel turned on his heel and left.

* * *

 

The other Ravenclaws were only too ready to celebrate when he got back to the tower that night, but Gabriel just went straight through the mess and up to his dorm, sticking the curtains around his bed shut.

When he woke up the following morning, it took Gabriel a minute to remember why he felt vaguely annoyed. Michael was waiting for him in the now empty common room.

"If you ask me if I entered myself I'm going to throw something."

"I wasn't," Michael said hurriedly. "I mean, I saw how disinterested you were in it. And I'm not stupid."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow skeptically. "So what are you waiting down here for?"

"You." Michael shrugged. "I figured you might want to avoid the hall for now, because of last night. And Hermione wanted to talk to you, by the way."

"Alright." Gabriel opened the door of the common room, Michael standing to follow. "Let's go out by the lake, we can talk there."

Hermione was waiting in the entrance hall, and didn't complain when they went outside despite the misty morning. "You don't mind skipping breakfast?" she asked as the walked along the shoreline.

"I only eat so people don't think I'm starving myself," Gabriel answered idly, hopping on top of a large rock. "I don't actually need to."

"Really?" Hermione pulled herself up after him. "Does it taste any different?"

"Sort of." Gabriel sat down on the top and looked out over the lake. Hermione reached down to offer Michael a hand up.

"What does it taste like?"

"Molecules."

“Huh." Michael sat down with a sigh. "You know, I bet you could have gotten over the Age Line."

"I did."

They both looked over at him at that. "I thought you said you didn't put your name in?" Michael asked in confusion.

"I didn't put  _ mine  _ in. Or Harry's."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not even going to ask."

"That's probably a good idea."

They sat in companionable silence for a bit, looking out over the lake as the mist was slowly burned away by the sun.

"How old are you?" Hermione asked suddenly.

Gabriel and Michael both looked at her. Hermione blushed lightly.

"I mean - I suppose you don't have to answer," she muttered. "I was just sort of...wondering."

Gabriel sighed and leaned back. "Neither of you really know much about Christianity, do you? Or any other religions?"

They both shook their heads. Michael propped nemself up a little higher, turning slightly to look at Gabriel.

"Well..." Gabriel considered how to phrase it. "I'm very old. I'm older than the school. Or the lake. Or the mountains. Or the Earth. Or even this universe. I've been around a very long time." Hermione looked fascinated. "There are only a couple of beings older than me - my older brothers, God, and Death."

"Death?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah. The Horseman, you know. Rides a pale horse."

"So like in the Tale of the Three Brothers?" Michael asked. "Death is a person?"

"I wouldn't call him a person by a long shot." Gabriel replied dryly.

"What's the tale of the Three Brothers?" Hermione asked.

"Right, you wouldn't have heard them." Michael summarized the story for her, giving the bare details.

"Did that actually happen?" Hermione glanced up at Gabriel.

Gabriel shrugged. "Don't look at me. What, do you think I have teatime chats with Death?"

Michael snorted at that. "That's an odd picture."

"Aren't there supposed to be four Horsemen?" Hermione listed them off. "Death, War, Famine, Plague..."

"Pestilence," Gabriel corrected. "And yeah, there are four. Death's just the oldest."

"So..." Michael was frowning. "If God was supposed to have created everything, did He create the Horsemen?"

"Maybe." Gabriel shrugged. "I don't think even Death and Him know who's older anymore. It's been a while."

"What about evolution?" Hermione was endlessly full of questions.

"True or not? It's true," Gabriel said, smirking. "Dad just gave it a little push."

"Huh." Hermione considered it. "You know, I looked up what information there was on Gabriel - er, I mean you-"

"Oh, not the  _ internet." _ Gabriel let himself lie down fully, flopping onto the stone. "So much false information."

"It's just a few things." Hermione sounded a little insulted. "But I was remembering what you told us about Christmas - about how G- er, you had to go tell Mary she was pregnant."

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Well - there’s just so much you’ve done. It must be incredible. Mary, and then, er, Muhammad?”

“Yeah, him too.” Gabriel turned over to lie on his stomach. “I haven’t always hung out on Earth. My older brother didn’t like me to.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not supposed to interfere with humanity much. I guess he thought I’d be tempted.”

“That makes sense,” Michael said. “But - you’re here now.”

“Yep.” Gabriel popped the p. “I dropped by when I could. I have seen a lot. Empires rise and fall, languages and slang go in and out of style, the universe moves on.”

“It all sounds very grand and pointless when you say it like that,” Hermione said quietly.

“Not at all. The entire point of everything is that it’s here.” Gabriel sat up. “If there’s no point to it all, then why does it exist?”

“Oh, don’t start with philosophy, I don’t like it,” Hermione pleaded. Michael laughed.

“I’ve just thought of something,” ne said. “The other champions won’t know what to do with you.”

* * *

 

Gabriel was pulled out of lessons early a few days later. The girl who had been sent to get him - Luna - was just below his year in Ravenclaw, and was very...odd.

"It's called the weighing of the wands," she told him as they walked. "I'm sure they'll want to take photographs or something."

"Great," Gabriel sighed. "Just what I felt like doing today."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Luna said dreamily as they came to a stop in front of a closed door.

"Right." Gabriel turned away and made to go inside.

"Oh, and Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"You should probably take better care of your wings."

Gabriel froze. Then, he slowly turned around. Luna was smiling gently. "They're not in very good condition," she told him seriously. "I doubt you can fly like that." She turned and continued down the hallway, humming quietly.

Gabriel stared after her.

He certainly hadn't expected to run into someone like that  _ here.  _ There were only so many people that could comprehend his true form.

Puzzling over the odds that someone like that would be a wizard - or witch, rather, they were based on gender here - he opened the door and stepped inside.

The were a lot of people waiting inside, including the other three champions and, for some reason, Ollivander from the wand shop.

"Ah, excellent!" Bagman said. "Now that all four of you are here, we can continue!"

There was a woman with very obviously fake curls standing in front of a man with a large camera, her eyes fixed on Gabriel. Bagman gestured to her. "This is Rita Skeeter - she'll be doing a small piece for the Daily Prophet."

"Maybe not that small," Skeeter muttered. She was still watching Gabriel. "I wonder, would anyone mind if I had a quick interview with our youngest champion?"

"Not at all." Bagman said.

"I mind," said Gabriel at the same time, not moving when Skeeter tried to drag him away. Reporters. Great. He wrenched his arm out of her grip and glanced at Ollivander. "What am I here for?"

"The weighing of the wands," said Dumbledore cheerily as he swept into the room. "Forgive me for being late, I am afraid something came up suddenly." He nodded to Ollivander. "Mr. Ollivander is here to make sure that there are no problems with your wands, and that they are working properly for the first task."

Ollivander stepped forward into the center of the room. "Mademoiselle Delacour, if you would like to go first?"

It was a far more elaborate ceremony than Gabriel had expected. By the time they got to Gabriel, he was wondering how long this thing was going to take and handed over his wand almost absentmindedly.

"Ah, yes," said Ollivander, running his fingers over the Enochian. "I remember this one. Twelve inches, pine wood, and a rather unusual feather..."

Ollivander spent longer examining Gabriel's wand than anyone else’s, but eventually conjured a cup of wine and pronounced himself satisfied.

"Thank you all," said Dumbledore. "You may go back to your lessons now - or perhaps it would be quicker to go straight down to dinner-"

Gabriel was out the door before anyone could say anything else.

* * *

 

There was a letter waiting on Gabriel's bed when he got back to the tower. An owl had obviously dropped it off, since there were several scattered feathers. Gabriel brushed them off as he picked up the letter. Who would be writing to him?

_ Harry- _

_ I heard about the tournament. I'm coming up to Hogwarts immediately. Remus is coming too. I know you'll say you can look after yourself, and Dumbledore and Moody are both there, but someone's getting a good try at hurting you. Entering you in that tournament would have been very risky, right under Dumbledore's nose. _

_ Be on watch. I want to hear about anything unusual. I'll arrive by the 22 of November. _

_ -Sirius _

Huh.

Gabriel hadn't had time to consider Sirius. Of course, he'd been named Harry's godfather - however he'd found out about the tournament, he'd be understandably worried, since he wasn't aware that Gabriel wasn't really Harry Potter.

And if Lupin was coming too...he might have convinced Sirius not to ask about what had happened at the end of last year. Or, they might both have questions that would be difficult to answer.

Maybe he could get Michael and Hermione to explain it for him, if it came to that.

* * *

 

The days left until the first task seemed to speed by until it was already two days away. There was a Hogsmeade visit that day, but Gabriel declined to go - Hermione had asked if he wanted to meet up in the Three Broomsticks but he knew it was just her trying to get him to talk to Ron again.

Which, incidentally, Gabriel was not actually at fault for. The redhead hadn't spoken or even made an effort to do so ever since Halloween, and Gabriel didn't particularly care to try and mend things. It was Ron's decision, and besides they didn't see each other a whole lot anyway.

There seemed to be a new fad of people wearing buttons which read  _ Support Cedric Diggory - the REAL Hogwarts champion.  _ Gabriel never ceased to be amazed, and maybe a little annoyed, at the stubbornness of humans. Like he was stealing any glory.

Hermione seemed thoughtful when she came back to the castle, and immediately sought out Gabriel.

"Hagrid wanted me to give you a message," she told him in the great hall at dinner. "Where were you, by the way? I couldn't find you anywhere."

"I was in Muriel's room. What does he want?"

"Mur - oh, right. He said for you to meet him at his hut at midnight, that he had something to show you."

"Show me?" What the hell did Hagrid have to show him?

Gabriel showed up purely out of curiosity.

He didn't wait for Hagrid, of course. He'd brought the cloak, and when something roared in the forest he swung it around himself and went straight in, wondering what sort of creature could make that sort of noise.

The answer turned out to be dragons.

"Well, crap."

Gabriel was peering over at the huge cages - four of them - from behind a small hill, because dragonfire was still strong enough to rip through any shield he could conjure and he didn't want to have to explain to anyone who might come over why his burns had miraculously healed.

There were people running around trying to keep the dragons under control with some sort of red spell. The one farthest from Gabriel, a spiky black one, was thrashing around in its cage and Gabriel finally had time to wonder why the looked so traditionally dragonish.

There were four different piles of eggs near where Gabriel was hiding and holy mother of shit. These were nesting mothers. Holy fuck Gabriel was going to need a really good plan to not sustain some sort of injury.

And whoever was in charge thought this was a good idea, _why?_

* * *

 

Gabriel dropped into a seat next to Michael the next morning. "I need to ask you some stuff."

"Okay?" Michael glanced over curiously. "Now?"

"Yes. About dragons."

"...What do you need to know about dragons for?"

"It's for the first task."

He could see the moment Michael realized what that meant. "Oh my - you're joking."

"Unfortunately, no,” Gabriel sighed. “I wish I was.”

"What do you need to know?"

"I don't actually have a whole lot of experience with dragons."

"And you think I do?"

"I think you've probably at least heard of what they're like."

Michael hesitated. "I suppose..."

"That'll have to do. Are these dragons the traditional gold-and-virgin-stealing type?"

" _ What? _ "

"I'll take that as a no. Can they talk?"

"Of course not!" Michael looked at Gabriel incredulously.

"Turn into humans?"

"No!"

"I must be used to a different kind of dragon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should explain the whole goblet thing. Yes, Harry Potter's name came out, but if the goblet's smart enough to judge someone when all it has is their name, it's smart enough to figure out that Gabriel is the one inside Harry Potter and choose him instead. Plus, the contract applies to their magical core, which technically is Harry's and was just sort of transplanted over to Gabriel when he possessed Harry.
> 
> Also, couldn't resist making a joke about the dragons from Supernatural. It was absolutely necessary.
> 
> Those characters I promised are coming up soon, so keep an eye out! And by soon, I mean next chapter.
> 
> Comment, please :)


	31. Surprising News and The First Task

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! I remembered this mid-CAH game. But it's still technically Friday, since I have about eighty minutes til midnight in my time zone, so no complaining.
> 
> To that one reviewer who asked about the pagan side of Gabriel being explored: happy birthday
> 
> I have also been reminded about the timeline changes I made! I don't know if I ever mentioned it (I may have referenced Halloween 1981 earlier, with Quirrell) so I thought I'd break it down here.
> 
> To sync up with Supernatural timelines better, I moved up the date of the Potter's death to Halloween 1998 - it was only after I wrote that bit that I realized it was wrong, and I don't remember if I corrected it when I posted that chapter here. So 1981 is wrong. 
> 
> I can never get that right. I wrote 1989 before I realized my mistake. Cut me some slack, guys.
> 
> Anyway, Since that happened in 1998, fourth year is actually 2012, not...1994? Something like that. Thought I'd let you know. I hope you guys actually read these notes.

Sirius made good on his promise to arrive on the twenty-second. Gabriel had, bemusedly, gone up to the headmaster's office that Saturday (having completely forgotten about the letter he'd been sent) and found himself confronted with two mildly frantic men.

"Harry!" Sirius had jumped up as soon as Gabriel set foot over the threshold.

Gabriel remembered the letter in a flash. "Er - hi."

Lupin was sitting in a chair next to the one Sirius had recently vacated and smiling wanly. "Hello, Harry."

"You too."

Sirius trapped Gabriel in a hug he was too surprised to duck out of. "I heard about the letter you sent to Madam Bones," he said when he finally let go. Sirius was smiling. "Pretty good."

"You're welcome, I guess."

"We saw the article about the tournament in the Prophet," Lupin said, standing as well. He glanced back at Dumbledore. "Any idea who might have put his name in?"

"I'm afraid not." Dumbledore replied. "Perhaps, though, you would like to go somewhere else to reconnect?"

"Sure," Sirius said before Gabriel could speak.

They ended up at the lake again before Gabriel finally got a word in edgewise. Sirius seemed simultaneously excited and nervous, but strangely enough, he didn't ask any questions about what had happened at the shack. Lupin had left to go do something else.

"Are you ready for the first task?" Sirius asked. They'd been sitting in silence for some time.

"Yeah." Sort of. "I've got a couple ideas."

"Good." Pause. "You know, um...me and Moony-"

"You and  _ who?" _

"Remus," Sirius corrected himself. "Moony was a nickname we used-"

_ "You _ wrote that map?"

Sirius seemed thrilled. "You've got the map?"

"Fred and George gave it to me last year. Stole it from Filch or something like that."

"Ha! Sounds about right."

"What were you going to say originally?" It was really awkward just sitting by the lake like this.

"Oh, right." Sirius cleared his throat. "Well, um, I don't know if anyone told you, but I was named your godfather."

Christ, please let this not be heading in the direction Gabriel thought it was.

"And, well, I thought maybe..." Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "Since I've been cleared now, and I've got a place...maybe you'd like to come live with me?"

Crap.

* * *

 

The day of the first task dawned somewhat chilly, not that Gabriel really noticed. He had spent a while in Muriel's room, looking for any notes she might have added to the books on dragons, but what little there was was nigh useless. Gabriel gave it up as a bad job and practiced random spells in case one of them might come in handy. 

Michael had offered to help, but all ne and Hermione had found was that the eyes were its weakest point, which could make for a handy backup plan but definitely wasn't going to be Gabriel's first move.

If worst came to worst, his wings would be good enough to (painfully) fly him out.  _ That, _ he could pass off as something magical. Surviving dragonfire with nary a burn? Not so much.

Gabriel had refused Sirius's offer. It would be too much work and besides, his setup with Balthazar worked fine. Sirius had been disappointed and hurt (much more so than he let on) but he'd reacted fairly well. He hadn’t shouted, at least, only retreated dismally to where Lupin was waiting a few feet away.

Gabriel had also had another one of the strange dreams which, as usual, vanished almost completely from his memory as soon as he woke up, leaving the faintest trace. This was getting very frustrating. Gabriel puzzled over it as he followed Flitwick outside, Michael and Hermione lingering at the doors to see him off before they went up to the stands and waving wildly. Gabriel distinctly hear Michael shout "Good luck!"

A tent had been erected by the forbidden forest, near where the dragons were. Fleur was sitting on a stool in one corner, and Cedric was pacing back and forth.

"Ah, there you are!" said Bagman cheerfully. He was wearing some sort of robe with a wasp on the back. "Excellent - you're all here - when the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag-" he held up a small purple sack. "-and you will each select a model of the thing you are about to face. There are different - er - varieties, you see. Oh, and one more thing! Your task is to  _ collect the golden egg." _

Were they  _ trying  _ to get the champions killed? Gabriel found it difficult not to gape at the man. Steal one of a nesting mother's eggs? That cemented it. Wizards were insane.

The sound of people could be heard making their way past the tent for nearly half an hour while Gabriel waited with the other three, who all seemed a bit sick.

Eventually, Bagman opened the neck of the bag and offered it to Fleur, saying "Ladies first."

Fleur reached into the bag, her nervousness apparent. She drew out a tiny green dragon, which was wearing a number 2 around its neck. So that was how they were going to establish an order.

Fleur didn't look surprised at all. Someone must have told her what to expect. Cedric, however, looked totally shocked. That was unfortunate. The famous Hufflepuff honesty and integrity was working against him, here.

Krum drew a red dragon with the number three, and Cedric got a blue one with a number one. Which left the spiky black one and number four for Gabriel.

Great.

Cedric left first (after Bagman, for whatever reason, tried to have a private word with Gabriel) and Gabriel proceeded to ignore the commentary completely as he mulled over what spells he knew that might come in handy. There was no way he'd be able to knock out a dragon without his Grace, and he wasn't wasting it on something like this. The whole point was to get the egg, of course so...

Well. If they hadn't put up spells preventing him from summoning it, this might be easier than Gabriel had thought.

Fleur left after Cedric, shakily exiting the tent. Gabriel still didn't pay any attention to the commentary, preferring instead to think of a Plan B. Always have a Plan B. Something the Winchesters had never seemed to grasp completely.

Eventually, it was Gabriel's turn.

The arena was surrounded by a crowd (and if this dragon was sensitive to noise he was going to need a better plan than 'stay away from it') and also nowhere in sight. The nest of eggs was on the opposite side of the arena, which featured a landscape of really large rocks and a load of gravel.

Might as well go right ahead and try.

Gabriel took out his wand. " _ Accio _ Golden egg!"

Nothing happened.

"Of course it's not that easy," he grumbled to himself. "Whoever decided that this task was a good idea is a sadist."

Gabriel looked around for the dragon. It hadn't made an appearance when he'd taken out the spells, and the most surefire way to get it to come out would be to walk towards the nest. Except Gabriel wasn't an idiot.

And he knew exactly where the dragon was.

Gabriel took a step towards it, disguising it as going towards the nest, and the spiky creature leaped out at him in one smooth movement, Gabriel ducked hurriedly behind a rock as the dragon decided that blasting him with fire was a good idea.

"Shit!" Oh, well. Time for Plan B. Pretend it's a really big snake.

" _ Wait, wait, wait!"  _ Gabriel put every ounce of his Parseltongue and multilingual abilities behind that word. He’d never been able to communicate with animals with his Grace this low, but he’d also never tried, so  _ maybe- _

The dragon actually stopped. Of course, the crowd had gone completely silent too, but screw them (except for Michael and Hermione). They were getting off watching him go up against a dragon.

Cautiously, Gabriel stepped out from behind the rock. 

" _ Can you understand me?"  _ If Parseltongue didn't work, then he was fucked.

The dragon was watching him carefully, but made no move to breathe fire again or to attack him.

" _ Yes."  _ The reply was roared at him and sounded garbled, as though he was talking to someone with a very thick accent and a mouthful of rocks. “ _ Stay away!” _

" _ I'm not here for your children, _ ” Gabriel said quickly. “ _ I’ve been ordered to take the fake one! The gold one is fake.” _

_ "I know."  _ The dragon sounded almost insulted.

_ "So you won't mind if I go get it, then." _

The dragon looked at him carefully. Then, it turned back to look at the nest.

Gabriel dropped to the ground as it picked up the egg and hurled it at him, the golden thing impacting on the ground several feet away. He glanced back at it, then at the dragon, who was looking down at him imperiously from her position curled on top of her eggs.

Gabriel picked up the egg, bowed to the dragon in thanks, and left the completely silent arena with it under his arm.

* * *

 

He was ushered into a tent by Madam Pomfrey and pushed onto a bench before Gabriel could explain that he wasn't injured.

"Do you mean to say that you went up against a dragon and came out completely fine?" Madam Pomfrey asked incredulously.

"Basically, yes."

Madam Pomfrey didn't have any time to reply as several people came suddenly into the tent. It was Hermione and Michael.

"What was that?" Hermione shrieked.

"That was awesome," Michael said almost reverently, with a note of relief in nir voice. "You alright."

"I'm fine.  _ That _ was me getting the egg." Gabriel shifted it under his other arm. "Was there anything else?"

"Anything else?" Hermione demanded, still indignant. "You looked like you were talking to it!"

"What?" Madam Pomfrey was looking at him even more incredulously. There were also three smaller, curtained-off cubicles that no doubt contained the other three champions, also listening in.

"Come on." Gabriel dragged Michael outside, Hermione following. No need to have this conversation with an audience, and Madam Pomfrey was too shocked to stop him.

"Wait, you've got to get your score-"

"Eh, who cares."

"What were you doing?" Hermione demanded as they walked back up to the school.

"Talking to it."

"You're  _ joking." _

"Nope."

"Talking to it?" Michael looked bewildered. "How?"

"Well, I opened my mouth and talked to it."

"Very funny." Hermione said. Her brows were furrowed like she was deep in thought. "The only thing I can think of that might let you do that would be Parseltongue, but-"

"Ding!" Gabriel tapped Hermione on the head. "Correct answer, you win absolutely nothing."

"Parseltongue?" Michael was actually gaping at this point. "But how can you speak it?"

"No idea." Gabriel looked up at the school. "D'you think the other tasks will be as potentially deadly to regular people?"

* * *

 

Winter fell on Hogwarts. Gabriel was pulled aside after Charms to be informed of the date of the next task (apparently he was supposed to have stayed behind a little longer after the first) and that the egg was a clue as to what the second task would be.

The weather was horrible as usual for a winter this far north, but luckily this year there was no one trying to persuade Gabriel into coming out to watch Quidditch games. Sirius had gone back to wherever he was staying before the first task even started, but only after imparting what he no doubt thought was necessary advice.

There was, however, something else on Gabriel's mind.

Some time after the first task, he'd gotten another one of the strange, unmemorable dreams. Except this time, he'd realized what was happening in the middle of it.

"Screw this," Gabriel growled. "Who the hell is messing with my mind? There are only so many people who-"

Oh. _Oh.  
_

Gabriel reached out mentally and answered.

No one was messing with his mind. They were _calling_ him.

Gabriel found himself in a familiar misty landscape, completely white. It was impossible to tell where it began or ended, and the only sign that there was even a floor was the fact that he was standing on something.

"Finally," said a disgruntled voice from behind him. Gabriel turned around.

There was a woman standing there in elaborate armor, and wearing a helm which covered the left half of her face. The entire left half of her body, in fact, was covered, one glove and a pair of vambraces which covered her forearms ensuring that. Dark hair cascaded from under one side of the helm, and the visible half of her face showed that she was staring at him in surprise.

"I thought you'd never answer," she said. "I have been calling for ages."

"Apologies," Gabriel said, grinning slightly. "I've been a bit busy, Hel."

Hel smiled wide. "Why,  _ father, _ don't tell me you forgot?"

"I wouldn't say forgot-" Gabriel frowned. "Don't make fun of me."

"If I wanted to make fun of you, I would not mock  _ that." _ Now that Hel stepped closer, it was embarrassingly obvious that she was much taller. She cast her eyes over Gabriel. "Care to explain what's happened to you?"

"It's a long story."

"I thought that was the point of these meetings? To tell stories?"

"Fair enough." Gabriel took a seat as a chair appeared like it had been there the whole time and he'd just noticed it. A table formed in a similar fashion as Hel took her own seat. "How have you been doing?"

"Don't change the subject, dad." Hel sat down and removed her helm, running a hand through her hair. The left side of her face - and indeed, of her whole body, even that which wasn't visible - was mummified and black, leathery skin clinging to her skull.

Gabriel, who was used to the sight, did not flinch.

"Fine, then." Gabriel let out a long, exaggerated breath which did not deter Hel at all. "I assume you were watching the whole mess with the Apocalypse and such?" Hel nodded.

She listened intently as Gabriel explained (in more detail than he'd ever given Hermione and Michael, given that Hel was at least seven centuries old and could handle it) how he'd ended up in the Potter's home and their kid in 1998. Hel knew of his angelic half; she’d guessed his secret centuries ago. The downfall of raising smart children was that they saw through his bull.

"Well," she said when he had finished. "That's certainly not what I expected."

"I would be incredibly surprised if you had expected something like that, and also a little pissed that you hadn't warned me," Gabriel joked.  


"So you say you're having troubles with your power?"

"Well, of a sort..." 

"I suppose that does explain several things..." Hel trailed off, frowning.

Gabriel frowned. "What things?"

Hel sat back in her seat. "I did find out what happened at the Elysian - don't be so surprised," she said, noticing Gabriel's look. "I do pay attention, and when five different pagan gods are killed in one night it tends to attract attention."

"I suppose."

_ "You _ aren't paying attention, though," said Hel sternly. "Dad, do you even remember what happened? Odin was killed."

"And I'd like to shake Lucifer's hand for that. What about it?"

"If he's dead," Hel said, obviously frustrated that he wasn't getting whatever point she was making, "Then he can hardly keep up any of his long-term spells, can he?"

Gabriel almost opened his mouth to ask what she meant before it hit him with the force of being run over by a semi truck.

"You don't mean-" Gabriel gaped at her.

"My siblings?" Hel arched one eyebrow. "Yes, I do."

"But - if those spells are wearing off-" Gabriel ran one hand over his face. He was sure he looked the textbook picture of shock. "Hel,  _ I don't have the power to go get them." _

"I know that now." Hel was now watching him with something akin to worry. Gabriel leaned back in his chair, letting his hand rest over his mouth. "But you're forgetting something."

"What?"

"The spells placed on  _ me  _ are also wearing off." Hel gave him a small smile. "It would be only too easy to leave Helheim now - you did show me how to enter the paths between realms, after all."

Gabriel stared for a moment before he truly realized what she was offering. "Hel..."

"They are my siblings," she reminded him, "And not just your children. It is nothing." She suddenly smirked in a way that was entirely Gabriel. "I assume you will not be too busy with school to receive them?"

Gabriel made a noise that was half-laughter and half something closer to a sob. "No, I - there's a vacation coming up, I can go home for that."

"And where should I bring them?"

Gabriel gave Hel the location of the house Balthazar had gotten. "Hel - if they remember anything-"

"We shall deal with that when we come to it." Hel was worried, but she hid it admirably well.

"Thank you, Hel." The chairs and table vanished as they both stood up. "Here - come here." Gabriel had to lean up slightly to give her a proper hug.

They remained like that for several moments before Hel pulled away. "I will go now," she said. "It wouldn't do to waste time - besides, it may take a while to find them."

That pulled at Gabriel's heart. "Yeah," he said, swallowing back the lump in his throat as he thought about what had happened to them. "Thank you, Hel. Really."

"I would do it anyways."

The misty landscape faded away, and Gabriel woke up in his bed in Ravenclaw tower. He turned over and tried to ignore the wet patch on his pillow.

* * *

 

Flitwick ended a Charms lesson (which Gabriel had been paying zero attention to, he'd already learned the spell anyway) early a few days later to give them all a surprising announcement.

"The Yule Ball," he said, "is rapidly approaching! It is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament, and an opportunity for us all to celebrate! Now, it will only be open to those fourth year and above - but any Ravenclaw who does attend, nonetheless, I expect the best behavior from all of you! It will be held on Christmas day at eight o'clock, and finish at midnight."

The bell rang just then. Flitwick stopped Gabriel from leaving. "Mr. Potter - a word, please?"

"What?"

"It's about the ball." Flitwick waited until the hallway was relatively empty. "The champions and their partners are expected to open the dance, of course-"

"What?!"

"Open the dance," Flitwick repeated. "I thought I ought to tell you ahead of time, so you can be sure to ask someone. That is all!" He quickly retreated back into the classroom, leaving Gabriel staring at the closed door.

_ But I've got to go  _ **_home_ ** _ for Christmas. _

* * *

 

The days leading up to Christmas break were not nearly as relaxed for Gabriel as they were for the others.

First off, there was the ball. He couldn't skip it - too many questions - but there was also no way he was staying at Hogwarts. Gabriel ended up just deciding that he'd create a double to stay and use the cloak to get on the train back to London.

That still left the problem of a date, but it was easy enough to ask Luna Lovegood if she'd like to go. She said yes, looking startled but transitioning quickly to a quiet glee.

And then...there was actual preparation for what would happen over break.

Because Gabriel had no fucking idea how to be a parent.

It wasn't like he'd been put in that position for the last seven centuries, and even if he had he's still need a load of stuff. Food, for one thing. Clothes. Gabriel spent ages looking up and perfecting conjuration spells, since his Grace was going to be absolutely useless unless he wanted to burn it out again.

He stubbornly ignored the issue of how they might have been affected by what had happened to them. Like Hel said - he'd take care of it when it came to that.

And  _ he  _ looked completely different. Sure, gods saw other gods as more than just their physical appearance, but Gabriel’s loss of his old vessel meant his physical appearance was completely different,  _ and  _ he looked more obviously like an angel than he was entirely comfortable with. How on Earth could he explain that to the kids?

When the time came to leave, he snapped up a double and remembered to scrawl a letter of explanation to Luna because of course, she'd notice that it wasn't him. It was unlikely anyone else would, though, but he added a PS to just give anyone (i.e., Michael or Hermione) who asked about him the note. Barely anyone over fourth year was staying, and those who weren’t were slouching home dateless for the winter vacation. Gabriel was the lone exception.

It was pathetically easy to sneak onto the Hogwarts Express in the invisibility cloak, and a couple quick charms ensured that the glass couldn't be seen through and no one would even notice the compartment.

It seemed like years before the train pulled into the station in London, and Gabriel waited until the platform was nearly empty before exiting back into the Muggle side and disappearing into the crowd. He'd left his trunk at Hogwarts, since it would look suspicious otherwise, and the bag at his side carried very little - the double could take care of the homework. Gabriel would be busy enough.

He navigated the mess that was the London bus system, remembering his route from last summer. The house was empty when he came back, and the single lamp that he flipped on in the entryway didn't do a whole lot to help.

Gabriel stood there for a few moments before pulling his wand out. Fifteen year olds weren't allowed to do magic on their own, after all, and he'd need to get rid of the Trace of he wanted to be able to do anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise?
> 
> Comment, please!


	32. Christmas, Kids, and Guests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of fluff in this chapter! The kid's situation is mostly inspired by Lost Boys (an Avengers fic), which I'm not sure is on Ao3, but go ahead and try to find it because it might be. 
> 
> A question which might have been raised: what about the rule against nephilim? Well, nephilim are the result of forbidden angel/human relationships...I wouldn't say that pagan goddesses were exactly human, would you?
> 
> Gabriel is very good with loopholes.
> 
> For those of you familiar with Norse mythology, a lot of things will probably be a lot different than you're expecting. While I can't promise that an explanation will be coming particularly soon, there is one. Trust me.

The first few days of Christmas break was spent layering the house in brand-new wards. The fence, which stretched around the front and surrounded the backyard as well, was painted over with invisible Enochian runic wards, and by the time Gabriel had finished the house was completely impenetrable to anyone who had not been invited. Hel, of course, could come and go as she pleased, and it was very recently after Gabriel finished that she came through with her promise.

Of course, being Hel, she couldn't just knock on the door.

Gabriel was woken up in the middle of the night by a heavy weight on his chest.

He blearily opened his eyes and looked down at a curly, dark-haired head.

"Faðir," said Fenris, his voice muffled, as he was pressing his face into Gabriel's chest.

Gabriel stared for only a moment before sitting up abruptly, his arms coming up to hold Fenris.

"Fenris," he gasped out. He was not going to cry. He was not. He was an adult and he could control himself.

Fenris sniffled into his shirt and Gabriel felt his stomach drop as he noticed the thick, angry red lines around Fenris's wrists and arms.

"No, no..." Gabriel belatedly remembered to switch to Norse. " _hhh, Fenris, it's alright..._ " A single touch let Gabriel ease the pain of them. If the marks were caused by what Gabriel thought they were, he wasn't going to be able to heal them that quickly. " _Hey, sshhhh, it's okay..._ "

Fenris sniffed again and curled closer to Gabriel's chest, tucking small legs up and revealing more marks around both of his legs. Stifling a pang of anger, Gabriel soothed those ones too, ignoring the toll on his Grace, and looked at Fenris properly. He looked like he was about four or five years old, the same size he'd been when _it_ happened.

The spells must have had more side effects than Gabriel had anticipated.

"Fenris, shhh, I've got you. _"_

 _"Missed you,"_ Fenris spoke into Gabriel's chest again, curling his hands into Gabriel’s shirt. " _Hel said I was gone for a really long time._ "

Something hopeful and at the same time sad twisted in Gabriel’s chest. " _Do you remember what happened?_ "

" _No._ " Fenris yawned, his tears subsiding. " _Hel said a bad man took me away and used magic on me and hid me so you couldn't find me._ "

" _I couldn't. Hel had to find you for me._ " Gabriel ran a hand through Fenris's hair. Coincidentally enough, Fenris looked very similar to his current vessel - dark hair, though his eyes were amber instead of green. Gabriel glanced over at the clock, which read five AM. " _Are you tired?_ "

Fenris just nodded, already drooping against Gabriel. " _I'm cold._ "

" _That's because you're on top of the blanket, silly._ " Gabriel edged the green comforter out from underneath Fenris and draped it over the both of them, lying back down so that Fenris was resting on his chest. " _You need to sleep, it's too early to be awake._ "

" _Promise not to leave?_ "

Gabriel swallowed thickly. " _Yeah. I'll stay here with you._ "

There was no way he was going anywhere.

* * *

 

    Gabriel woke up and found Fenris staring at him with a frown.

    “Hi,” Gabriel said sleepily, and then remembered his vessel. “ _It’s me, Fenris. You recognize me, right?_ ”

    Fenris nodded slowly and uncertainly.

    _“I know I changed a lot._ ” Gabriel patted his cheek. “ _Do you mind? It’s been a while, and some bad things happened to me._ ”

    “ _The bad man got you too?_ ” Fenris’s eyes widened.

    “ _A different bad thing,_ ” Gabriel said, heart twisting a little. “ _You know Daddy can shapeshift, right? It’s like I got stuck in the wrong shape._ ”

    “ _Oh._ ” Fenris considered that. _“Okay._ ” He sat up and bounced back onto Gabriel’s chest.

"Oof!" Just because Gabriel was an angel didn't mean he didn't feel it. Fenris giggled, which made Gabriel smile despite the fact that Fenris had just literally jumped on him.

"Sunna," Fenris said, pointing out the window where sunlight was streaming in.

" _Yeah, it's morning. Do you remember the word for sun in English?”_ Gabriel asked. He knew Fenris knew _some_ English, but it would all be hopelessly outdated now. It would be good to give him some experience with the new lingua franca.

Fenris thought about it. “ _Sunne? Sun?_ ”

“ _Yes! Smart boy._ ” Gabriel grinned at him. " _Are you hungry?_ "

"M-hm."

" _Come on, I'll show you where the kitchen is._ "

Fenris rolled off of Gabriel's chest and sat on the edge of the bed as Gabriel swept the covers off. Gabriel swung his legs over the edge and stood up, pausing when he saw Fenris raised his arms.

" _Carry me,_ " Fenris said, slightly petulantly. Gabriel didn't even pause before picking him up.

" _Where are we?_ " Fenris asked as they went downstairs. He was looking around and the large house - Balthazar hadn't even blinked an eye at what was practically a small manor.

" _We're at home._ " It wasn't like he could call anyplace else by that title at the moment, and it was the simplest explanation.

" _Where are Slepnir and Jor?_ "

Gabriel didn't answer at first.

"Faðir?"

" _Hel's looking for them too right now._ "

Fenris looked at him, eyes wide. " _They got hidden too?_ "

" _...Yeah. Don't worry about them_ ," Gabriel told Fenris. " _That's my job, and Hel will bring them back really fast. Your job right now is to get something to eat._ "

" _Okay._ " Just like that, Fenris accepted it. Gabriel wondered if he had ever been as innocent as Fenris was.

* * *

 

While Fenris was technically almost seven and a half centuries old, he only remembered the first fifty-ish years and consequently was still mostly a child. Added to the fact that he hadn't aged at all physically, he was exactly the same as he'd been before...everything that had happened to him.

Of course, this also meant that Gabriel was unable to do any of the homework he'd bothered to bring, as Fenris kept trying to borrow his parchment and quill and anything he managed to write ended up covered in inky doodles, runes, and the occasional handprint. Gabriel thought that this was really a very small price to pay. Besides, his double could take care of the homework.

Fenris seemed perfectly content to wander the house and explore, but he didn't get very far - Gabriel was determined to keep him in sight, which meant that either they were both walking around or Gabriel snapped up some sort of game for them to play.

Luckily, he'd bought an assortment of Muggle games on his way back from King's Cross (there was no way he was introducing Fenris to the wizarding versions quite ye)]. Fenris seemed to like them, but even if he didn't ask again Gabriel noticed every time he turned around to excitedly talk to someone that wasn't there and was brought up short by their absence.

Hopefully, Hel would be back soon.

The other worry was Fenris’s injuries. He wasn’t bleeding from anywhere, but he was sore, and lines of scar tissue crisscrossed his body in a way that made Gabriel go tense and quiet and made Fenris jump every time he saw himself in a mirror. Gabriel knew what had happened to Fenris, but he didn’t have to like the consequences of years of bondage.

They healed quickly, though, fading from red and swollen to thin pale lines over the course of a few days. Fenris would have scars for the rest of his long life, but he would be fine.

They would  all be fine.

* * *

 

Gabriel was woken for the second time in three days in the middle of the night. Not by a weight on his chest (even though there was one, since Fenris had insisted on sleeping like that) but instead by something moving around in the dark.

Frowning, he carefully slid Fenris off his chest, sat up, and turned on the light.

There was someone standing right next to the bed.

" _I don't like the dark,_ " Jormungand wailed. Gabriel was already swinging his legs off the bed and pulling him up into his lap. The light switch by the door flicked itself on and the room was suddenly much lighter as Jormungand buried his face in Gabriel's shirt. He was taller than Fenris, with darker brown hair, but they had several similar features.

" _Hush, it's okay, the dark's gone now._ " Gabriel ran a hand over Jormungand's back in a soothing motion, wondering why a crying child was so much easier to deal with than a crying best friend. " _Shhh, I've got you._ "

The light-filled room did seem to calm Jormungand down a little, and Gabriel could hear Fenris stirring behind him. Sure enough, Fenris was peering around his arm at Jormungand in a few moments.

"Jor!" Fenris went from delighted to confused at the speed of light. " _Why is he crying?_ "

" _He's scared, Fenris._ "

Fenris frowned, then hauled himself into Gabriel's lap as well and put a hand on Jormungand's face. " _No crying,_ " he said stubbornly.

Gabriel smiled at his attitude. " _Jor, shhh, we're both here, see? No scary things._ "

Jormungand shook his head. " _Hurts_."

Panic sprang up in Gabriel. " _You're hurt? Where?_ " He ran his hands over Jormungand, who stiffened when Gabriel reached his sides and then relaxed in the same moment as the bruises vanished.

" _Better?_ " Gabriel asked. Jormungand nodded, sniffing and reaching his hand up to rub at his eyes.

“ _Shoulder,_ ” he said. Frowning, Gabriel pulled the neck of his tunic aside, wincing when he saw what it was. Lightning scars trailed over Jormungand’s collarbone and down his back. They didn’t look new, but no doubt the sudden shift back to his normal self had aggravated them. Gabriel smoothed a hand over them, soothing whatever soreness remained, and then ran a hand through Jormungand’s tight curls.

He was in the same situation as Fenris; barely any older than when Gabriel had last seen him, centuries before. He looked to be maybe nine or ten. Right now, he especially looked tired.

“ _Sleep, Jor,_ ” Gabriel said softly, holding him close. “ _I’ll be right here._ ”

* * *

 

Jormungand fell asleep quickly, exhausted by the night’s events and no doubt the travel to the London house as well. He and Fenris were already gone when Gabriel woke up, causing him no small amount of panic. Fenris had taken him downstairs to show him around, and when Gabriel found him Jormungand looked up at him quizzically.

“ _It’s okay,_ ” Fenris had said, “ _It’s just dad, like I said._ ” Jormungand nodded, but he snuck confused looks at Gabriel whenever he thought the latter wouldn’t notice.

Fenris was only too eager to take his big brother on a tour of the house as soon as they all woke up again, after staying up until the sun could be seen peeking above the horizon. Jormungand allowed himself to be pulled along as Fenris chattered away and Gabriel made sure neither of them got into any sort of trouble (which was so much harder than it looked, how did Mrs. Weasley _deal_ with seven of them?).

Eventually Gabriel managed to keep them both in one place long enough to have a decent meal and see if Jormungand was still alright. He seemed happy enough, and was listening intently as Fenris described the picture he'd made on what had started out as a History of Magic assignment, which ended in them both scribbling away with some paper and markers Gabriel had located in the closet he'd stored all the board games in.

Gabriel was sitting in the living room when sudden, rapid footsteps left the room and then some muffled talking sounded from the hallway. He turned around to see the paper and markers abandoned on the floor and, curious, poked his head around the doorway to see Jormungand trying to unlock the door. Fenris was standing next to him, shifting around eagerly.

" _Jormungand? Where are you going?_ "

They both turned around with a start. " _We were gonna go outside,_ " Fenris said unrepentantly.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow as he stepped out into the hallway. " _Is that so? But it's snowing. Where are your shoes and socks?_ "

Both of them looked down at their completely bare feet.

" _Um..."_ Fenris looked up sheepishly. " _I don't know._ "

" _You have to wear a shoes when you go outside._ "

Fenris thought for a moment and then shook his head. " _Can we play a game?_ "

" _Go ahead. Why don't you let Jor pick, though?_ "

" _Okay._ " Fenris took off down the hall, and Jormungandr reached for Gabriel's hand.

" _You too._ ” Jormungand, naturally quiet, had barely spoken all day. It was a relief to hear his voice.

" _Alright._ " Gabriel smiled down at him, taking his hand. " _Did Fenris show you any of the games yet?_ "

Jormungand shook his head.

" _No? Well then you can see what we have and choose what looks good. Okay?_ " He got a nod in reply. “ _Let’s go catch up before Fenris picks one out for us._ ”

* * *

 

It was always in the middle of the night. Gabriel thought that maybe Hel was trying to make a point about something, but he couldn't bother to be frustrated at her as someone shook him awake carefully.

Gabriel almost jolted upright when he saw someone bending over him on the bed before he remembered Fenris on his chest.

" _Slepnir,_ " he whispered.

Slepnir was kneeling next to him on the bed. He was staring down at Gabriel in confusion, eyes darting between him and his brothers.

“ _It’s just me,_ ” Gabriel said. “ _I promise I’ll explain in the morning. Are you alright?_ ”

" _Hel brought me back,_ " Slepnir whispered back, nodding.

" _Come here._ " Gabriel looped an arm around Slepnir and pulled him down to the bed on the only side that wasn't taken up by the blanket hog named Jormungand. " _Are you hurt?_ " He kept his voice low to avoid waking up the other two - Fenris was hard enough to get to sleep, especially in the middle of the day.

" _No._ "

Gabriel sighed. At least one of them was alright. " _Here, come under the covers._ " He flipped open the comforter so Slepnir could slip in.

Slepnir pulled the blanket up to his chin and tucked himself into Gabriel's side. He was the oldest, looking to be about eleven and a good few inches taller than Jormungand, if Gabriel remembered correctly. Gabriel left his arm around Slepnir and ran a hand through his hair soothingly.

" _You alright?_ "

Slepnir nodded, which Gabriel felt more than he saw even in the light which he'd taken to leaving on in the hallway for Jormungand. He stretched one of his arms over Gabriel and Fenris, who shifted slightly but stayed asleep.

" _What happened?_ " Slepnir whispered. Dread coiled in Gabriel. " _I don't remember anything._ "

" _Don't worry about it, Slepnir._ " Gabriel sighed. " _It's taken care of now._ " Slepnir didn't reply, but Gabriel could tell that his question had been far from answered. " _Go to sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up._ "

* * *

 

_"No, you have to do it like this!"_

_"Shhh, you'll wake him up!"_

_"I'm being quiet!"_

" _Not that quiet,_ " Gabriel muttered, wondering what they were getting up to now. That sounded like Jormungand and Slepnir.

There was a sudden hush. Then-

" _You woke him up, see!_ "

" _Okay, enough fighting._ " Gabriel sat up, noticing that Fenris had decided at some point to drape himself over Slepnir instead. " _What is going on?_ "

" _Nothing,"_ Jormungand muttered.

" _Really,_ " Gabriel said dryly. " _Because from where I'm sitting about three inches away it sounded like you were arguing._ "

" _I was just trying to show him how to do it right,_ " Slepnir said petulantly and Gabriel realized that they were both holding half-folded bits of paper.

" _What are you making?_ " Since when did Slepnir know how to do origami? Gabriel wasn't sure whether origami had even existed in the fourteenth century, let alone whether the boys had learned how to do it.

" _Hel showed me how to do it._ " Oh, that explained it. " _It's supposed to be a_ fortune teller." Slepnir pronounced the name very carefully, words only faintly accented.

Gabriel sat up all the way, grinning at them. " _Well, why don't you finish those after you've had something to eat._ "

Jormungandr looked disappointed, but Slepnir dropped his paper and slid off the bed right away, edging Fenris out of his lap. Fenris, who against all odds was still asleep, squirmed as Gabriel picked him up.

" _Noooo,_ " he grumbled, batting at Gabriel's shoulder halfheartedly.

" _It's morning Fenris, time to wake up._ "

" _Sleepy._ "

" _Use full sentences, Fenris._ "

Fenris made a muffled sound and put his face against Gabriel's shoulder, evidently trying to go back to sleep. This time, Gabriel didn't question the warm feeling in his chest and just tried to get downstairs faster before Slepnir or Jormungand, who were both already in the kitchen, set something on fire.

* * *

 

    Having the three boys back was not as simple as Gabriel had expected (or maybe hoped) it to be. It had been literal centuries since he had been a parent, but he didn’t remember them being very difficult children.

    But it had been seven centuries for them, too.

    Jormungand was averse to water to the point where getting him clean became a daily adventure. After several days of point-blank refusal, Gabriel managed to entice him into a _very_ shallow bath with scented bubbles and a toy boat. It lasted for maybe ten minutes total, but Jormungand smelled nice afterwards and seemed relatively not traumatized, so Gabriel counted it as a win.

    The other two, luckily, seemed more fascinated by the concept of a faucet with pipes that could deposit hot or cold water at a twist of a handle. Baths were only Jormungand’s personal issue; even so, each of them had acquired their own...unique traits.

    Slepnir couldn’t suffer closed doors; he’d open all of them, using books and heavy toys to wedge them in place. Fenris would demand to be carried, but if anyone grabbed his hand or wrist or tried to keep still, he would run away. At least one light in every room had to be on during the night, or else somebody would get frightened and run to Gabriel (which had _never_ happened before, not even when they were very small). Sometimes Slepnir would go to the middle of the foyer, which was the largest room of the house, and just lie on the ground for a while, staring up at the skylights two stories above.

    Once, Gabriel had taken the three of them to a nearby playground, thinking it would give them a glimpse of the modern world they now lived in. It was cold out, and snowy, but that only made it resemble his old stomping grounds as Loki; he thought it would help.

    They (Jormungand especially) balked at public transportation, disliked the dirtied air and prevalence of concrete and asphalt, and kept so close to Gabriel as they walked that he nearly tripped over them. They made it about eight blocks before Gabriel decided that maybe the crowds and the strange, steel-and-glass modern London was maybe too much for the moment.

    Gabriel had not attempted to broach the subject of them possibly getting their own rooms (or beds, to be precise). It had occurred to him, but with the issue of the nightmares that had started to crop up, he had discarded the idea. There was one larger room that was attached to the master bedroom he’d claimed for his own via a bathroom; in time, if their night terrors and separation anxiety got better, he might suggest they take that one.

    For now, he wanted to keep them as close as possible, oddities and all.

* * *

 

Christmas Eve was a cheerful affair, despite none of the three boys really understanding what the holiday was for. Gabriel debated over celebrating it, but it was so widespread now, and he wanted the excuse to give them presents. Gabriel had bought some Muggle crackers and Fenris was thrilled with the blue tissue-paper crown inside his, and would have worn it to bed if Gabriel hadn't stopped him.

There was a minor argument over a miniature plastic ring toss which was resolved when everyone lost interest in it as soon as Gabriel mentioned that if they went to bed on time they might get to open a present early.

Christmas was full of excited yells and Slepnir proudly wearing the knitted dragon sweater Gabriel had shrunk down - he hadn't disliked it, but when he received it from Mrs. Weasley all he could think about was his sons' recent dragon infatuation after he'd found a DVD of that Viking movie. They’d taken to the TV and modern technology like a house on fire, once they understood it.

Seeing them all slumped over each other as they slept off the time they should have slept last night (Fenris had woken them all up at six) made Gabriel seriously wonder whether it would be worth it to go back to Hogwarts.

He had to, of course.

People would talk if he simply vanished. By now he would be able to teach himself spells well enough, his magical core had mostly settled, but there was the tournament to consider as well as his celebrity status. His magic was his strongest defense at the moment, and if Gabriel didn't continue to compete he'd lose that and, by proxy, the wards he'd assembled around the house.

Harry Potter, of course, could not just disappear from the magical world right now. People would talk. They would come looking. And like it or not, he could not hide forever, not right under their noses, and Gabriel was not going to condemn his sons to a life in hiding.

Which meant he had to figure out what to do when the time came to return to Hogwarts, like it or not.

Gabriel sighed and wondered if Sigyn would actually kill him if he turned up on her doorstep. Provided he could actually find her, of course.

* * *

 

Hel turned up shortly after everyone woke up for the second time, wearing a glamor which hid the left half of her face under a completely normal-looking appearance.

"Hel!" She was promptly mobbed by several excitable boys, and Gabriel only grinned as she disentangled herself from them.

"You didn’t think I would miss Christmas, did you, Dad?" She asked Gabriel, who only shrugged.

"It's nice of you to turn up, Hel."

"I wouldn't miss it, after all the trouble I went through to locate my brothers."

Jormungand tugged at Gabriel's shirt. " _What are you saying?_ " He demanded. Gabriel laughed.

 _"Sorry, Jor. Hel forgot you aren't good at English yet_."

" _I'm good at English,_ " Jormungand muttered rebelliously. Gabriel laughed again and turned around towards the living room, calling to Hel over his shoulder.

"Come on, I'm sure Fenris will want to give you the grand tour."

"The house is really big!" Fenris had rushed up to talk to Hel. " _There are only two floors though._ "

" _Indeed?_ " Hel looked down at him with a smile. " _And what’s your Christmas tree like?_ "

" _Really big!_ "

" _It's not that big,_ " Slepnir teased. " _You're just short._ "

" _Be nice to your brother,_ " Gabriel chided. "Hel, can I have a quick word?"

"Of course."

Gabriel managed to distract the three boys with Uno cards before he and Hel slipped into the adjoining kitchen. Gabriel closed the door.

Hel was studying him intently. "Something is wrong."

"No, no," Gabriel waved away her concerns. "It's just...I'm going to have to go back to Hogwarts."

Understanding washed over Hel's face. "You need someone to take care of them."

"Yeah, so..." Gabriel pulled a letter out of his pocket. Hopefully this wouldn't blow up in his face. "Do you know where Sigyn lives?"

Hel was staring at him in outright shock. " _Sigyn?"_

"I know, it's probably a bad idea."

"But Sigyn?" Hel shook her head. "Why not Vali and Narvi?"

"They're _alive?"_

Hel gave Gabriel a thoroughly unimpressed look. "When your sister is Queen of Helheim it is possible to escape many impossible things."

"They-" Gabriel sagged and leaned against the countertop. he hadn't even dared to hope that the twins might have made it, somehow. "I - I guess they would be easier to approach than Sigyn-"

"She still keeps in contact with them, you know."

" _Sh_ -" Gabriel cut himself off, aware that there were three kids on the other side of the door. Hel was watching him with an amused expression.

"I will take the letter and ask the twins if they are willing," she said, plucking the paper from Gabriel's hands. "Just this once. I am not a mail courier."

"No, of course not-" Gabriel looked at her incredulously. "I only asked because I've got no idea where she is and I couldn't go even if I did."

Hel nodded, half-smiling. "I was kidding, Dad." She tucked the letter away into her pockets and said teasingly, "I will give them the letter, and if Sigyn does show up and your soul ends up in Helheim rest assured I will keep hold of it for a while to ensure she is gone."

"...Right." It was a joke, albeit a morbid one, but Sigyn had been angry enough to do it the last they'd seen of each other.

Hel smiled and opened the door again, tucking the letter away. " _Now what is this game you are playing, Fenris?_ "

* * *

 

The disturbance, of sorts, came at the edge of the wards several days later.

Frowning, Gabriel checked to see who it was. It looked like the twins and...Sigyn was with them. This was going to be an experience.

At least Fenris was asleep for the moment and Slepnir and Jormungand were upstairs, so if there was a fight none of them would see it.

Sighing, Gabriel let the three of them in.

He met them at the door and even Sigyn's eyebrows shot up when she saw him.

"Come in," Gabriel said, internally sighing as he realized he'd have to explain what had happened all over again. It was getting very frustrating, but at least the three boys hadn't asked any questions so far.

Sigyn brushed past him without another word. Vali and Narvi were slightly warmer, nodding hello and even a muttered greeting. Then again, they hadn't had much time to get annoyed by him or inherit the famous pagan dislike of angels.

Gabriel closed the door behind them and tried to brace himself for what was about to happen.

"Why have I been called here?" Sigyn asked as soon as they were all sitting in the living room. “Your daughter made it seem urgent, and crossing universes is not something one does lightly.”

"I asked Vali and Narvi to come," Gabriel pointed out.

Sigyn snorted. "If you think I am going to let my sons visit _you_ without me then you are sorely mistaken."

 _"Mom,"_ Vali complained.

"Why _are_ we here?" Narvi was looking at Gabriel with interest.

"Did Hel explain about Slepnir and the others?"

"She mentioned that they had been freed." Vali put in, making _freed_ sound almost like a question. Sigyn’s expression shifted infestinimally, but Gabriel didn’t look too closely at her. Of course the twins wouldn't know exactly what had happened. "She didn't say why you wanted to see us, though."

"Or that you had somehow become a fourteen-year-old," Sigyn said, eyebrow rising again.

Gabriel was forced to explain the whole story (again) as the three of them listened with mounting incredulity. Luckily they already knew about the angel thing, even if Sigyn hadn't been entirely understanding.

"So you have to compete in this...tournament thing," Vali summarized, "Or you'll lose part of your power, and because of this you can't take care of Slepnir, Jor, and Fenris?"

"Basically."

"I can't picture you following the rules," Narvi said in an undertone.

"I do so because I'm low on power and it would attract too much attention. I _can_ keep a low profile, you know."

Sigyn looked like she'd very much like to say something, but was holding her tongue.

"So you called us here to act as babysitters?" She asked coolly.

"I called Vali and Narvi to ask if they'd help out with their siblings," Gabriel said tersely. "I didn't expect you to come as well, since I didn't think you'd be interested."

"How long would we stay?" Narvi asked quickly, eyes flicking between Sigyn and Gabriel. Gabriel wished he’d gotten more time with them - but seeing them here now was more than he ever thought he’d get.

"It depends on how long you're willing, I guess." Gabriel sighed. "I have to go back for the rest of this year - which is from the seventh 'till late June. I might be able to work out a way to skip out on the last couple years I'm expected to go, but that's probably not going to happen. My vessel also has something of a reputation, so more than just a few people would notice if I just up and vanished."

Vali looked thoughtful. "How many more years would there be after this?"

"There are seven total; I'm only in fourth. There's some sort of important exam in fifth, I might be able to drop out after that, but again it's not an assured scenario." Gabriel explained. "In all likelihood, unless the headmaster finds out that I'm more than just this Potter kid, I'll have to stick it out."

Vali glanced over at Narvi, who made a face back at him. This continued for several moments before they finally seemed to come to a decision.

"What the hell." Narvi shrugged. "I don't have much else going on." Sigyn looked at him incredulously.

Vali grinned. "It would be nice to see some more family."

Sigyn sighed heavily. "Whatever I hold against you," she said, pinning Gabriel with a glare, "Does not extend to them. I suppose I can help out."

Well. It was more than Gabriel had expected her to do.

"Thank you," he said honestly, letting out a relieved breath. "It means a lot."

"Save it," grumbled Sigyn. "This is not a favor to you." But her voice wasn't as venomous as it could have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I didn't introduce Sigyn as a romantic subplot.
> 
> Hope you liked it - comment, please, if you did!


	33. The Second Task and The Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigyn, Vali, and Narvi were originally intended to play bigger roles, but in this story at least they'll remain minor characters. Though I doubt any of them are going to enjoy sitting idly by while Voldemort rises.
> 
> If he even manages to in this timeline.
> 
> Haha, you'll never know until we get to that point.

The end of Christmas break did not go well.

There had been yelling. There had been several minor tantrums. There had been crying. Fenris had fastened himself to one of Gabriel's legs and refused to let go for nearly an hour.

And yet, at the end of it, Gabriel had found himself (once again) hidden in a temporarily impenetrable compartment on the Hogwarts express, with the same bag and supplies he'd brought with him on the trip there.

It gave him time to think about figuring out whatever clue was inside the egg. Gabriel hadn't brought it with him - he hadn't even opened it since the dragon had thrown it at him - but February the twenty-fourth was rapidly approaching and it would just be embarrassing to be the only one who hadn't figured it out.

By the time Gabriel got back to his dormitory it was already dark, and everyone was asleep. His double sat up in bed when he slipped in next to it.

"Everything go well?" Gabriel asked.   


"About as well as expected," said the double, shrugging.

Gabriel snapped his fingers and closed his eyes as the double rippled and faded away into smoke, and then into nothing. Memories flashed in front of his eyes, and Gabriel saw the ball and everything else his double had done while he was in London.

"So the ball was nice," he muttered to himself. Luna had noticed he wasn't really there, but from what Gabriel now remembered she hadn't questioned it, but merely smiled and said it was alright. Michael had looked a bit suspicious, but hadn't said anything.

There hadn't been any sort of life-changing events. Nothing that warranted immediate attention.

"At least it's calmer here." Still, Gabriel felt a twinge of longing for home as he changed and climbed under the covers.

* * *

 

Snow had fallen heavily on the grounds of Hogwarts. The heat of the greenhouses was such a stark difference it created an opaque mist of condensation on the windows which prevented anyone from seeing outside. Despite this, however, Michael came back from his outdoor Care of Magical creatures lesson in a strangely good mood.

"What's happened to you?" Gabriel asked, arching an eyebrow. "You're never this happy when you come back from your lessons with Hagrid."

"It's called care of magical creatures," Michael reminded him. "And Hagrid wasn't actually teaching today. No idea why, but you'll never guess what creatures the substitute brought in."

"You might as well tell me. I'm not going to guess."

"Unicorns."

" _ What?"  _ Gabriel stared at Michael. "You're shitting me."

"Harry!" Hermione looked scandalized.

"Unicorns? Seriously?"

"What, you didn't know they existed?" Michael sat down at the Ravenclaw table

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I didn't spend a lot of time studying supernatural creatures." That, and they had been just myths on the last Earth.

"What did you spend your time doing, then?" Hermione would constantly slip little questions into the conversation in an effort to find out more about Gabriel. She seemed honestly interested in learning more.

"Hiding from my brothers," Gabriel said shortly, sweeping a Potions essay into his bag. 

Hermione looked unsure how to respond to that, and Michael averted nir eyes, glancing down at the table like ne was embarrassed - or, more likely, wishing to ask more about it but afraid to take the plunge. Gabriel changed the subject before either of them could ask him to elaborate. "Why wasn't Hagrid there?"

"No idea." Michael shrugged.

"Oh, I know," muttered Hermione darkly. "It's all because of Malfoy and that hag Skeeter."

Gabriel and Michael both looked towards her. "I'm sorry?" Michael said, bewildered.

"She wrote an article about Hagrid," Hermione said angrily. "Made it sound all horrible, like he's not a good teacher at all, and just because he's half giant-"

"He's  _ what _ ?" Michael's jaw dropped open.

"Don't be like that!" Hermione snapped. "Hagrid's never done anything, just because giants have got a bad rap-"

"For what?"

"Harry, do you pay  _ any _ attention at all in History of Magic?"

"Does  _ anyone?" _

* * *

 

The egg, once Gabriel actually bothered to examine it, turned out to have several hinges on the bottom. The carved owl at the top turned out to twist easily, allowing the sides to fall open in three parts.

Opening it, however, was not as good an idea as it looked.

The egg shrieked like a bad death metal opera singer and Gabriel actually winced at the sound, wrenching the sides back together.

"Merlin's pants!" The boys in the dormitory were all staring at him. "What the hell was that?"

"I think the whole point is that I'm supposed to figure it out," said Gabriel dryly. His gaze dropped back down to the egg. It definitely hadn't just been screeching randomly, it had sounded almost...animalistic. "Any of you know any creatures that might shriek like that?"

* * *

 

Flipping through Michael's copy of Fantastic Beasts (and there were certainly more of them here than there had been on the last Earth) provided only a few ideas. It wasn't a Banshee, that was for sure. There were only so many creatures who shrieked to communicate, and fewer of those who could reasonably be defeated by a bunch of wizards barely out of school.

Well. There were the dragons to consider. Gabriel was probably the only one thinking along the lines of 'reasonable' here.

The shrieking was definitely meant to tell them where the challenge would take place, but a creature clue didn't seem to be the best way to do that...then again, they were wizards.

Gabriel had eventually decided that it was probably something on the grounds, since his double had been forced to listen to Percy Weasley complain about the mess which had been created by importing the dragons for the first task during the ball. Which meant it would take place either in the forest (other than the giant spiders he'd encountered in second year, nothing too bad, and the centaurs would leave him alone for the most part), or in the lake.

The lake was a bit of a blank spot. Other than the giant squid, there wasn't a whole lot of common knowledge on what lived in there. Therefore, the task would probably involve the lake in some way.

Also, the Forbidden forest was kind of forbidden. Dumbledore wouldn't break one of his own rules just for a tournament. Probably, at least. Gabriel _hoped_ he wouldn't.  


* * *

 

A little over a week before the second task, Gabriel got a letter in the mail.

_ Hey, _

_ You had better appreciate this letter, if you get it at all, because I spent about five hours finding the magical district in London and figuring out how to send you a letter at your ridiculous pimple school. You're welcome. For that, and for stopping Mom from sending you a shouting letter when we found a shelf full of them. _

_ We're all pretty good here. They all calmed down a little when we explained it more and they realized you weren't leaving for good. Slepnir is dealing the best, and he helps out with the little guys a lot. Fenris has also stopped hiding when he has to go down for a nap. Now he just tries to outrun us. _

_ Also, thanks a  _ _ lot _ _ for not warning us about their nightmares. Do you know how many times I've been woken up in the past week? Too many. _

_ Hot chocolate seems to help. I don't know if you knew that but Fenris really likes it now so we've started keeping a stockpile of it. Mom seems to like being around kids again. She's much friendlier to them than she was to you, at any rate. _

_ Jormungand doesn't talk a lot, but Slepnir says that's normal. I can't tell you how weird it is to be a foot and a half taller than my older brother. Very weird, in case you were wondering. Slepnir seems kind of confused too but he hasn't asked about it yet - I think he'd probably rather ask you. _

_ Anyway I thought you deserved a status report and all, since you'll be gone for a while. There are some pictures Narvi took too. _

_ Sincerely, Vali _

_ P.S. They wanted to write too, so I put their letters in here as well. _

That was...actually really thoughtful of Vali. None of the pictures were very good quality, but they were obviously all of Slepnir, Jormungand, and Fenris in the middle of various activities, even one of them all piled together asleep. Gabriel tucked them all into his bedside drawer, which was the only place anything could be kept secret in the entire dormitory.

Slepnir...well, of course he'd be confused. He was the oldest; he definitely would have remembered when Vali and Narvi were little. To see them suddenly much older than he was would have been very confusing. But there wasn't a whole lot Gabriel could do, and especially not from this far away.

A lot of things could have gone better if things hadn't gone the way they had.

“What’s that?” Michael was leaning across the table to look. Gabriel snatched the envelope up, hurriedly folding Vali’s letter away.

“Nothing important,” he said. “I should go back upstairs - forgot a book for Ancient Runes.” He did go back to the dorm, but only to curl up on his bed and read through all the letters. The childish runic writing could have been a homework assignment, if it hadn’t been done in technicolor and obviously with markers. 

They all said something along the lines of ‘I miss you’. Gabriel’s heart ached, and for the first time in years he wished fervently that he’d never heard of Hogwarts or ended up in this vessel at all.

* * *

 

Gabriel was on his way back from Muriel's room, where he’d gone in a last-ditch effort to see if there was a message in the egg, when it happened.

He was on the seventh floor and holding an obviously old and definitely not written in English book when loud footsteps sounded around the corner and Gabriel heard McGonagall speaking with someone.

Gabriel spun around and tried to go the other way when he realized that the corridor was so long there was no way he'd be able to duck out of the way before McGonagall rounded the corner and if she noticed the book (which she  _ would _ ) then that would raise way too many awkward questions. The least of which being how Gabriel suddenly knew how to read Old English.

Gabriel spun around again but he couldn't go  _ towards  _ them because that was just stupid and he  _ needed somewhere to hide this freaking book.  _ Gabriel turned one more time to see if there were any classrooms he could duck into and he'd gone all of three feet before suddenly there was a door next to him.

Gabriel didn't question it and darted in.

The footsteps passed the door. "Yes, I know that the task is necessary, but I don't understand why they have to make them so  _ impossible..." _

Gabriel waited until he couldn't hear McGonagall anymore. Letting out a long breath, he turned around and nearly dropped the book on his foot.

"Holy _ shit." _

The room was cavernous, and definitely magical, as there was no way it could be that big without being bigger on the inside. The seventh floor ceiling did not go up that high.

There were the towering piles of everything from chairs to broomsticks that were  _ definitely  _ held up by magic, since they very nearly touched the ceiling. Gabriel was sure he must have been gaping. Where had all this stuff come from? Scratch that, where had the  _ door  _ come from?

Now that he looked closer, there were all sorts of things piled around the room, creating narrow paths in between piles of junk. Gabriel left the book on the floor and walked between a pile of what looked like ratty sofas and a bookcase which held a cage with some sort of mutated creature's skeleton.

The room didn't seem to have an end. It was piled high with objects that had no real value, old things that had been left behind or deemed useless.

Gabriel passed another narrow passage, paused, went back, and looked down it.

Something silver was glinting at the end, a short distance away.

Something that Gabriel was sure he recognized.

"You're  _ shitting  _ me."

How the hell had Ravenclaw's diadem ended up back at Hogwarts?

The silver diadem practically glowed as Gabriel picked it up, his Grace reacting and spiking slightly as he touched his horn for the first time in who knew how many hundreds of years. The diadem lit up blindingly and changed in his hands, silver frame and blue gems twisting together to take a familiar shape.

"Well," murmured Gabriel, holding his Horn, now properly horn-shaped, in both hands, "I definitely didn't expect this."

* * *

 

The second task found Gabriel standing by the lake's edge at ten in the morning and wondering if this was all really necessary. A frigid lake early in the morning, and they were going to make the champions  _ swim _ through it?

At least Gabriel could do a warming charm. He was also the only champion who didn't actually need to breathe, so this would be a lot easier than he'd expected. Then again, he’d also never figured out the egg, so...

A whistle pierced the air, and apparently that was the signal for them all to dive in. Fleur pointed her wand at her throat, and then performed a neat swan dive. Gabriel shrugged and stepped off the edge of the pier. The crowd was clapping and cheering, but the noise vanished as soon as Gabriel went underwater.

The other three champions were heading deeper, farther into the lake. Gabriel rolled his eyes. Of course whatever the task was for would be at the bottom of the lake.

It was slow going, even though Gabriel did know how to swim fairly well. His buoyancy worked against him, but a touch of Grace took care of that. The lake bottom slowly fell away until Gabriel was swimming over an underwater meadow of seaweed and then a muddy, rock-strewn floor. At some point he passed Cedric, who started and then tried to swim faster, but he was only human.

Dark shadows lurked in the water, which resolved themselves into buildings as Gabriel got closer - there were mermaids, of all things, down here. And they were distinctly more fish-like than the legends might suggest. There were too many new creatures that he wasn’t prepared for on this Earth. At least the giant squid hadn't shown up.

The merpeople didn't move to stop Gabriel, merely watched with yellow eyes as he swam past. They were singing, for whatever reason, and Gabriel caught snatches of the lyrics.

" _..To recover what we took...you're time's half gone so tarry not...lest what you seek stays here to rot..." _

Rot...but only something  _ alive  _ would rot.

Gabriel sincerely hoped that wizards were not that stupid.

There was a large statue, rough-hewn from stone, and four figures were tied to the stone merperson's tail.

Two of which were very familiar.

"Fuck!" The word came out as only a large bubble and Gabriel winced ever-so-slightly at the uncomfortable feeling of water in his lungs. Right. No talking underwater. He'd have to take care of that later.

His prime concern right now, though, was the fact that Michael and Hermione were tied to a statue way, way too far underwater for it to be anything but frightening. Their eyes were closed, and neither was moving. There were two other people Gabriel didn’t recognize, but he ignored them for now.

Gabriel scowled as he swam towards them.  _ If I have to bring anyone back to life when we reach the surface then I'm going to murder whoever thought up this task. Painfully. Maybe drawn out. _

He tried not to think about whether or not he'd be able to do so, if anyone drowned.

The angel blade flashed and Gabriel could have sworn that one of the nearby merpeople flinched away from it as he cut through the weird seaweed ropes binding Hermione and Michael to the statue. It was even slower going trying to drag them back to the surface, but it probably helped that not only were humans naturally buoyant, but Gabriel was going straight up.

Michael and Hermione woke up as soon as they broke the surface, sputtering as Gabriel took the opportunity to cough up the water he'd accidentally swallowed.

"Harry!"

"Nice to see you too." Hermione looked rather panicked, so Gabriel grabbed her arm - both to try and calm her down and to keep her up, since part of the panic was apparently caused by the fact that she didn't know how to swim very well.

Michael was blinking water out of nir eyes. "You took both of us?"

"That sounds really wrong, you know." Humor was Gabriel’s last resort in the face of the relief sweeping him. He gripped Hermione’s arm tightly.

Michael laughed and then coughed as a wave caught them suddenly.

"Let's get back to shore," Hermione said quickly. "I don't like being out this deep."

It turned out that Hermione was a perfectly capable swimmer once they reached water less than half a mile deep. Michael struggled a little more and only seemed to relax when ne was on solid ground. All three of them were quickly pulled onto shore once they got close enough, and Madam Pomfrey managed to wrap all three of them in at least three blankets apiece. Gabriel did, however, manage to distract her before she shoved the weird smoke potion down his throat.

Fleur was already there, bearing the marks of some sort of attack that must have turned her back, since of the two people that had been brought back Gabriel had 'rescued' both of them. Cedric and Krum both turned up later, at almost the same time - Cedric was carrying someone Gabriel faintly recognized as the girl he'd taken to the Yule ball, while Krum was holding the smaller silver-haired girl who looked almost identical to Fleur. 

Fleur shrieked as soon as they surfaced, and threw herself back into the water, splashing towards the younger girl and shouting in French. Gabriel watched her rapid conversation with interest. At least the little girl was alright. She didn’t look nearly old enough to be a student.

The merpeople had poked their heads above the water, swimming close to the shoreline. Dumbledore had bent low to the water and appeared to be talking to them in the same screechy manner that the egg had screamed in, though at a considerably lower volume.

The judges eventually gave out points, but Gabriel was more preoccupied with the way Dumbledore kept side-eyeing him when he thought Gabriel wasn't looking. The merpeople obviously would have noticed that Gabriel wasn't at all human, and he didn't want to think about what they might have told Dumbledore.

* * *

 

There was something very odd going on. Gabriel hadn't noticed it previously - he never really paid attention to either Snape or Karkaroff - and yet both men in question had some very strange magic about them.

Forgoing the usual means of going on autopilot during potions, Gabriel took the time to study Snape. The magic in question was a sort of dark blot, curled over his left forearm - if there was any shape to it, Gabriel couldn't make it out. The same went for Karkaroff, and the longer Gabriel paid attention, the darker and thicker the magic seemed to get.

Gabriel didn't waste time trying to figure it out, but he certainly didn't ignore it; the opposite, in fact. He kept a close eye on both of them, because magic that created an aura that dark and smokelike certainly wasn't anything good.

He had no idea what it could be, though, and that discomfited him.

* * *

 

The only noteworthy incident after that took place a week or two after the second task. Hermione, who by now was becoming a regular at the Ravenclaw table kept watching the ceiling as the usual rush of morning owls flew in.

"What are you looking at?" Michael asked.

"I've taken out a subscription to the Daily Prophet," Hermione said. "I'm tired of finding out everything from the Slytherins."

"Everything?" Gabriel asked skeptically as a gray owl soared towards Hermione, who was frowning at it. A tawny one dropped a thick envelope in front of Gabriel, who hurriedly put it in his pocket. He’d stopped opening them at the table, but it hadn’t stopped Michael and Hermione from noticing. Hermione was occupied this time, though, by watching the skies. Or ceiling, rather.

"That owl hasn't got a newspaper," Michael noted as the gray one came closer. It landed on the table and was soon joined by even more, a whole group of them jostling around.

"What on Earth?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

"How many subscriptions did you take out, exactly?" Michael questioned as yet another owl landed on the table. Hermione snatched a letter from one of the owls and read it with an ever-increasing expression of disgust.

"Oh, really!"

"What?" Gabriel made to grab the letter but Hermione snatched it away.

"It's nothing," she said hurriedly, but her face had turned red. Hermione reached for another letter, as the owls were still jostling for attention. "Oh, these are all the same-"

"What is this about?" Gabriel asked again, and Michael opened nir mouth to answer just as Hermione shouted out.

"Ouch!"

Both Gabriel and Michael turned towards her immediately. The envelope Hermione had just opened was full of some sort of viscous yellow liquid, which had poured out over her hands, which were now so covered in thick sores that it looked like she was wearing gloves.

"Bloody hell!" Michael had jumped back in nir seat. "You'd better go to the hospital wing!"

"Ow," Hermione got out of her seat gingerly, doing her best not to use her hands. Gabriel stood up as well and followed her out of the hall - he could hear Michael following, if the extra set of footsteps was anything to go by.

"Hermione!" Gabriel called before she could go very far. "Wait up!" She paused at the foot of the marble staircase which led out of the entrance hall.

"What?" She asked, holding her hands close to her chest.

"Let me see." Gabriel took her hands gingerly - if the smell was anything to go by, much less the reaction, it was probably quite painful.

It took only a small amount of Grace to fix. Gabriel let Hermione's hands slip out of his, and she and Michael watched in fascination as her hands returned to normal, sores fading away and the rough texture smoothing out.

"Wow." Was all Michael said. Hermione lifted her hands up and felt them gingerly.

"It feels fine," she said in astonishment.

"Of course it does," scoffed Gabriel. "Are you doubting my abilities?"

Hermione looked back at him. "But I thought you said you were low on power."

Gabriel made a dismissive motion. "Healing doesn't take that much. I'm fine. And now, so are you. You're welcome."

That tugged a grin from Hermione. "But how does it work, though?" She questioned. "You didn't say anything, or even snap like you did in the shack last year."

"Snapping is just for dramatic effect," Gabriel said idly. "It's all about intent."

"But so is magic, and that still requires a wand-"

"Hermione." Gabriel put up a hand to stop her. "When you have been practicing magic for at least three millennia, come back and then we'll talk about its intricacies and whether or not you need a wand."

Hermione, to her credit, didn't react to the abrupt reminder of Gabriel's age - neither did Michael, who spoke up. "Magic's different than what you've got, though, isn't it?" Ne asked.

Gabriel shrugged. "Sure. Same basic principles though - weird, not totally understood power."

"I really doubt-" Hermione began.

"You know, let's save this conversation for someplace where we don't run the risk of being interrupted by a load of students at any second." Gabriel wanted to go upstairs and read his letters from home. Maybe there would be photos of his boys in this one, too.

He missed them 

* * *

 

The Easter holidays were as homework-filled as usual, and instead of the usual wish to go outside instead of write essays for three hours Gabriel found himself thinking that it would be a lot better if people could go home for Easter as well. Vali had sent several more letters, but it was hardly a decent substitute.

Hermione had finally explained the reason for the hate mail - Skeeter had published an article about her after Hermione had confronted her about another article Skeeter had published about Hagrid.

"I was just angry," Hermione muttered when Gabriel had finished the article (and taken the time to mentally compose something good to do to Skeeter). "She's such a hag, though, I wonder how she even got some of the information..."

"What?" Gabriel looked across the library table at Hermione, having been distracted from the possible merits of whether he was able create another Trickster universe like the TV one he'd made for the Winchesters, at such low power as he was now.

"Well..." Hermione hesitated. "Just...some of the things in that article...there was no way she could have known."

"Like what?" Gabriel picked the article back up. Honestly, if he'd written something like this he'd probably be laughing his ass off. Except if he'd written it, it would be about someone who deserved to have something horrible happen to them.

"Well-" Hermione was actually blushing. "It's just - how did she find out that Viktor invited me to visit him over the summer?"

"Seriously?" Gabriel dropped the magazine, looking at her in disbelief. "He took you to the ball, now you're arranging summer plans?"

"It's just an invitation," Hermione protested.

"Are you going to accept?"

"Maybe." Hermione frowned in thought. "I don't know. My parents and I usually go somewhere over the summer, and I don't really get to see them any other time."

"Well, if you do accept, let me know. I'll send you condoms."

" _ Harry!" _ Gabriel laughed as he dodged the book Hermione actually threw at him. She looked mortified. "We wouldn't be doing  _ that!" _

* * *

 

Gabriel woke up abruptly, gasping for breath and with the feeling of burning pain in his lower wings.

He had to clench his mouth shut to prevent himself making a noise, because it felt like the third pair were being slowly singed off and there was something very, very wrong, because even on this Earth he could always hear the Host in the very back of his mind, his siblings talking and ordering others around but now his wings were burning and everything was

absolutely

completely

horribly

silent.

"Harry?" Gabriel winced. There was no way he could stay in the dorms right now. Bracing himself, Gabriel used his almost-working pair of wings and collapsed to the ground of an abandoned classroom with a wordless scream.

He didn't know how long he lay there. It felt like years before his wings stopped feeling like they were on fire. Gingerly, Gabriel tried to turn over and immediately winced, whimpering at the way the pain flared in response.

"Aargh..." He couldn’t manage more than a wordless groan.

Gabriel didn't think he was going to be moving anytime soon. The pain wasn’t as immediate now, as long as he didn’t move. He stayed on his back, despite the way the stone floor pressed into him uncomfortably. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to turn around and risk seeing his own wings scorched into the floor. His  _ wings... _

Gabriel wrenched his mind away from self-pity.  _ Think,  _ he told himself viciously, curling one hand into a fist and letting himself feel his nails biting into his palm.  _ Distract yourself. What could have caused this? _

He didn’t know. He had no idea what could have taken his wings from him. It would have to be powerful magic - powerful  _ angelic  _ magic. What could be going wrong now? Hadn’t the threat of the Leviathan been enough? They’d probably killed Raphael, and now they might have driven someone to do  _ this.  _

_ Balthazar.  _ Gabriel suddenly wondered what had happened to him. Even if he hadn't been in Heaven, Balthazar would have undoubtedly lost his wings. he only had two for flying, after all. Would he be able to get back to the house in London?

A fresh wave of pain on his lower back when he shifted unconsciously successfully distracted Gabriel from thinking about his brother, changing his train of thought to  _ pain  _ and  _ ow. _

If the Winchesters were involved in this Gabriel was going to make them  _ wish  _ they were back at the Mystery Spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the Supernatural timeline, the Fall in season 8 took place on May 21st, 2013. As stated earlier in the story, third year took place in 2011. That was in November. 
> 
> Of course, in January the year would turn over to 2012, and as it's now May of fourth year another new year would have taken place, making the timeline for this chapter [except for the very beginning] all take place in 2013.
> 
> Hope that makes sense.


	34. The Maze and A Visitor Or Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, ha! Funny story! I completely forgot about updating yesterday, because I had a fuck-ton of homework and only the usual amount of time.
> 
> The general consensus from last chapter seems to be 'oh no, Gabriel!' Which is good.

Gabriel missed an entire day's worth of classes while he hid in the abandoned classroom to recover from the loss of two of his wings. He managed to trick everyone into thinking he'd been there, since Gabriel definitely didn't have the energy for another double, much less to even leave the room until late that night.

If anyone stumbled into that room on accident, if would be very difficult for them to figure out how a charred outline of a pair of wings had been singed into the floor and walls, nearly reaching the ceiling. Gabriel knew that the burn marks wouldn't go away anytime soon.

Gabriel barely paid attention to any of his classes because the newfound silence in his head was deafening. He’d been separated from angel radio for years, true, but there was a difference between  _ distant and separate  _ and flat-out  _ gone. _ He didn’t understand how other people coped with only their own thoughts in their head.

Of course, humans had never needed to get used to the sound of hundreds of people talking in the back of their mind for billions of years.

It was only a week later when Gabriel was held back after Charms so Flitwick could tell him to go down to the Quidditch pitch at nine that night to be informed about the third task. The other three champions were already there when Gabriel arrived, and the pitch was overgrown with large hedges instead of the usual cropped grass turf.

Bagman was standing there as well and Gabriel almost groaned out loud - of course they had to send the most annoying judge to tell them what was going on.

"I suppose you all can guess what we have here?" Bagman asked, grinning. There was a long, unimpressed silence. His smile faded a little.

"Maze," Krum said eventually.

"Exactly!" said Bagman, overly cheerfully. "The third task is fairly straightforward - the Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center. Your job is to get to it first for full marks."

"We simply have to get through the maze?" Fleur asked in astonishment.

"Oh, there will be obstacles." Bagman was practically bouncing. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures..." Wonderful. Exactly what Gabriel wanted to do. "There will be spells that need to be broken...all sorts of things, you know. The champion who is leading in points will enter first." Bagman grinned at Cedric. "Then Mr. Potter, then Mr. Krum, then Ms. Delacour. But you'll all have a fighting chance, depending on how well you get past the creatures. Should be fun, eh?"

No one answered. Gabriel wondered what Bagman's definition of 'fun' was.

"Well...if you haven't got any questions, we might as well head back up to the castle...it's a bit chilly."

Gabriel didn't get very far before there was a tap on his shoulder.

"What," Gabriel said shortly.

"Could I have a word?" Krum's accent was even thicker than Fleur's.

"Fine." Make it quick, was the unspoken addition, and Krum seemed to notice even if Gabriel didn't say anything.

"I want to know what is between you and Hermione." He pronounced Hermione's name very oddly.

"Excuse me?" Gabriel actually turned around. Krum was actually glaring at him and Gabriel was  _ really  _ not in the mood for this. "Look, I'm not Hermione's boyfriend or whatever bullshit that magazine published. I didn't think you read gossip rags." Spinning around, Gabriel ignored Krum and went straight back up towards the school.

Hermione's boyfriend. Honestly. It was like no one even knew them.

* * *

 

After thinking over it a bit harder and waiting a week, Gabriel figured out something very important.

Using what the Winchesters had dubbed 'angel radio' when cut off from Heaven was a bit more difficult than it looked. He’d almost forgotten how to tune back into it - but he managed. The second discovery he made was that it wasn’t broken after all, not completely. His siblings, like he was, were figuring out how to use it again. It took more energy, and the conversations were barely whispers, but Gabriel was not completely marooned.

_ Where am I? _

_ Hello, can anyone hear me? What's happened? _

_ Why are we on Earth? _

_ Where is Castiel? _

_ What happened? _

_ Heaven's been closed. _

_ But how? _

_ Who closed the gates? _

_ Who survived the Fall? _

...At least he heard nothing about the Leviathan.

* * *

 

Hermione and Michael cornered him several days later in the Ravenclaw dormitories. Gabriel wasn't entirely sure how Hermione had even gotten in there. Michael must have let her in.

"Alright," Hermione said severely. "What's going on?"

"Who says anything's going on?" Gabriel feigned innocence.

"Don't play dumb," Michael said heatedly. "You've been distant all year and especially after Christmas break. And a week ago you started acting all weird and zoning out a lot. Angel or not, we're your  _ friends,  _ Harry."

"Oh, so this is what, and intervention?" Gabriel snapped back.

"We're worried about you!" Hermione burst out. "You can tell us things, you know!"

"Oh, really?" Gabriel asked sarcastically.

_ "Yes," _ Michael stressed the word so that ne was practically shouting it. "What was the point of explaining about you being an angel if you're still going to keep secrets?"

"I'm allowed to keep some things to myself!" There was a sudden murmur through angel radio and Gabriel frowned, bringing up a hand to the side of his head almost unconsciously.

"What are you-"

"Ssshhh!" Gabriel held out a finger towards Hermione as he concentrated on the message. He didn't recognize who was talking, but he could make out the words clearly enough.

_ It was Metatron! _

Metatron? That upstart little scribe? Gabriel had almost forgotten about him. Gabriel listened closer, but he didn’t recognize the voice.

_ He's responsible for this - he and Castiel made some sort of spell which cast us out! _

_ What about Naomi? She was in charge!  _ That one was unfamiliar, too.

_ She hasn't responded to any calls - she either died in the fall or was killed prior. _

_ Are there any confirmed casualties? _

_ Ezekiel is unresponsive. So are many others. Naomi's deputy Nathaniel is dead as well. _

_ Hael has been killed,  _ put in another voice.  _ I know for a fact she survived the Fall, but I have been unable to contact her. _

_ And Castiel? _

_ We attempted to discover his location from Dean Winchester. So far, we've been unsuccessful. The two who were sent after him have not responded since then. _

_ Do you think Castiel killed Hael? _

_ If they were in the same area, it's possible. But we don't know where either of them are. _

_ What about those of us who have no vessels? _

_ Bartholomew is organizing something. He'll have vessels for us eventually.  _ Bartholomew? He was barely a seraph.

_ I have heard that Malachi is amassing his own following. _

_ Malachi? He's an anarchist. You could do better than that. _

_ What do we do about Metatron? _

Gabriel had heard enough. He pulled away from the conversation and lowered his hand, then looked back at Hermione and Michael.

"Who were you listening to?" Michael asked.

"Who said I was listening to anything?" Gabriel retorted.

"You looked like you were. Or maybe seeing something." Hermione was way too observant.

Gabriel put his face in his hands and let out a long breath. 

"You're going to want to sit down,” he said eventually. 

Hermione took a seat on the bed, next to Gabriel - he must have sat down without noticing while he was listening. Michael pulled over a chair and looked at Gabriel expectantly.

"Something happened," Gabriel began. "With my family. The angel side, I mean." And the Norse side, but now wasn’t the time for him to go into all that. It had been difficult enough persuading them of his angelic heritage.

"What?” Hermione pressed. Gabriel hesitated.

“...I don’t know.” It was true enough. “I’m not really in touch with the rest of them, and now it would be more difficult than it was worth to ask one of them. All I know is what the fallout was.” He almost rolled his shoulders, to try and stretch the soreness out, but remembered at the last minute what a bad idea that was. Michael caught the twitch of movement, and narrowed nir eyes at Gabriel.

“And that was?” Ne asked warily. “When did this happen, anyway?”

“Not too recently,” Gabriel lied. Even if he considered it recent, time was relative - he considered the nineteenth century recent. 

“Were you listening to your family?” Michael guessed, with startling accuracy. 

“...Yeah,” Gabriel said, frowning at the abrupt topic change. “It’s - I don’t know how to explain it. We can generally talk to each other no matter where we are, but that’s...changed.” His tone came out more melancholic than he’d have liked.

Hermione put a sympathetic hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. Unfortunately, that was the wrong move. Gabriel twitched away from it, reflexively trying to spare his back, and both of them noticed.

“Are you alright?” Hermione took her hand away hurriedly, eyes wide. Michael had sat up straight in alarm.

“I’m-”

“Don’t say fine again!” Michael burst out. “You always say fine but you never seem to actually  _ be  _ fine. You said you were fine after a  _ dementor  _ attack.”

“I was fine!” Gabriel retorted. “And I’m - I  _ will  _ be now.”

“So you’re  _ not, _ ” Hermione said, quick as lightning. “What  _ happened? _ ”

Disgruntled, Gabriel looked away from both of them. “Powerful magic,” he said grudgingly. “I don’t know what happened, I’m trying to find out, and that’s  _ it. _ That is  _ everything  _ I can tell you. Satisfied?”

The long silence after he finished speaking told him no. Gabriel could picture the look Michael and Hermione were exchanging.

“You know we’re your friends, Gabriel,” Hermione said.

“I know  _ that, _ ” Gabriel interrupted. He had a feeling there was more to what she was going to say, but he didn’t want to hear it. “Just let me-”  _ Feel sorry for myself.  _ “-keep some things private. I know my limits better than you do.”

“If you say so,” Hermione said, sounding troubled. “I - well, I hope you get better. And figure out whatever hurt you.”

“So do I,” Gabriel muttered.

* * *

 

Hermione and Michael kept a careful eye on him after that, which meant Gabriel tried twice as hard to fake his way through feeling good. It wasn’t difficult; he’d had practice before. Still, it was frustrating. The actual pain did not seem inclined to leave anytime soon. Gabriel hadn’t expected anything different, but it was still terrible. Even letters from home could only cheer him up temporarily.

Gabriel  _ was _ enjoying one thing, as far as enjoyment went in the face of chronic pain: not having to study for exams. It was the only upside to the whole Tournament debacle. In regards to the Tournament itself, the days until the third task went by rather quickly, though classes still managed to be agonizingly slow. The day of the task, however, Flitwick approached him at the Ravenclaw table during breakfast.

"Mr. Potter?"

Gabriel and Michael both looked up, wondering why Flitwick had come down. "Yeah?" Gabriel asked.

"The champions will be congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," Flitwick informed him.

"I thought the task wasn't till tonight."

"I'm aware of that! But the champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is an opportunity for the champions to greet them!" Flitwick continued on to the staff table, having delivered his message, and left Gabriel staring after him.

"But I thought you said-" Michael began.

"Believe me, I'm just as confused as you are." Had Balthazar shown up? "Let's just hope it's not my brother." A brief thought of Sigyn popped into Gabriel's head, but he dismissed it. Sigyn probably wouldn't bother to come to his funeral if he died.

Michael glanced over at him. "The brother that you live with?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you said that he was okay."

"I can deal with him, but I don't think Hogwarts will be able to."

The Great Hall emptied around Gabriel as he stood to make his way into the side chamber they had directed the champions into on Halloween. Cedric and Fleur were walking towards it as well, Krum slouching behind them. Utterly bewildered, Gabriel nodded at Cedric as he held the door open. Who would have come to see him?

Cedric was talking to an older couple just inside the door, and Krum was deep in a conversation in rapid-fire Bulgarian with someone who looked very similar. Gabriel nearly gaped when he noticed the pair standing by the fireplace.

"Surprise," said Vali. He was leaning casually against the fireplace and looking around in interest at the room and various wizardly conversation pieces and contraptions.

"Didn't think anyone would show up, did you?" Narvi was grinning broadly at Gabriel.

"I only learned about it five minutes ago," said Gabriel, grinning despite himself. "What are you doing here?" There was no way Sigyn had approved of this.

"We got the invitation and thought we'd come." Narvi leaned closer. "Just so you know, as far as anyone else knows we're cousins on your aunt's side." Gabriel nodded.

"This school looks pretty cool, though," Vali said, looking around at the paintings now. The woman in the one nearest to them giggled. "Mind giving us a tour?"

"Do we need the fancy uniform?" Narvi teased.

"Very funny," Gabriel said with no real heat. At least he’d forgone his robe that morning. "Do you want to be shown around or not?"

Gabriel led them back out through the Hall. Narvi tipped his head back to watch the ceiling shift as clouds overhead moved, and banged his legs into the benches no less than three times. Gabriel caught Vali rolling his eyes.

“Why  _ did _ you come?” Gabriel asked as they walked up the Entrance Hall stairs. “I wasn’t expecting anybody.”

“You already said as much,” Vali said.

“We were curious.” Narvi shrugged. “You know, Hogwarts. Didn’t expect  _ that  _ when we got here.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess.” Gabriel had almost forgotten about the book series. He paused, and turned around. “You don’t mind, do you? Being a universe away is-”

“Awesome,” Narvi said. Gabriel blinked in surprise. “I mean, yeah, it’s a little weird, but it’s kind of a refreshing change. New slate and all that.” Behind him, Vali rolled his eyes again, but halfheartedly.

“Huh,” Gabriel said. “Alright. That’s good.”

“You didn’t plan this, did you?” Vali asked as they climbed further. “Ending up here.” Gabriel snorts.

“If I did, I would’ve come up with a much better plan. I probably would’ve picked a universe whose fictional counterpart I’d actually read, too.”

“You’ve never-?” Narvi sounded surprised.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before.” Gabriel grinned at him. Then the staircase abruptly shifted to swing around and lead to with the opposite side of the hall and nearly sent all of them falling onto their asses.

“Whoa,” Vali said. “Cool.”

Vali liked the paintings best, as far as Gabriel could tell, examining the styles and listening to the occupants talk. Narvi acted like he was bored and trying to hide it until they got outside, at which point he brightened up and beelined for the willow tree that had nearly killed Hermione the year before.

The ensuing game of chicken did nothing but make Gabriel nervous. He knew they were sturdier than the average human, but  _ still. _ He had to resist the urge to yell at them to stop messing around. 

“Okay, how ‘bout we do something that  _ doesn’t  _ result in somebody bleeding?” Gabriel said loudly as the willow delivered a solid hit to Vali’s leg that sent him toppling over.

“I’m fine,” Vali said grumpily, and then shoved himself backwards quickly to avoid the next branch. When he stood up, there was grass covering the back of his pants. 

“I’m good for now,” Narvi said cheerfully, artfully dodging three branches in quick succession and darting out of range. “I want to see that big Hall again. The ceiling was cool.”

“Fine by me.” The Great Hall was incredibly unlikely to be as nerve-wracking. Gabriel had a thought as they headed back up the lawn. “Oh - how are the kids?”

“Good,” Narvi said carefully. “They seem fine, except  - y’know, the nightmares.”

“I know.” Gabriel sobered a little.

“What’s that about, anyway?” Vali asked. “They say they never remember.”

“Makes sense.” Gabriel rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I’ve never used magic like what was...done to them, and I don’t know how Hel broke it.  _ Mostly  _ fine now is a lot better than I expected.” He’d spent a lot of time worrying. There had been a lot of alternatives to consider.

“I guess,” Vali muttered.

“Seven centuries is a lot to forget, though.” Narvi sounded a little uncomfortable. “And a lot to miss.”

“They would’ve missed a lot either way,” Gabriel grumbled. He was getting irritated just thinking about it. Narvi seemed to catch on.

“...Well, I found some old history textbooks and stuff,” he said. “They’re not very interested in them, I think the language is too stuffy and academic, but if I translate it more casually they’ll listen.”

“That’s nice of you,” Gabriel said, surprised. He’d thought about their learning English, but Slepnir and Jormungand had learned languages before, so he wasn’t that worried. He hadn’t even considered catching them up on history.

“They’re family.” Narvi said modestly, but he was smiling. “And I think you writing back wouldn’t go wrong, either.”

“Right!” Writing letters back! Gabriel had been so preoccupied with himself - but he cut off that train of thought before it could get very far and made a mental note. “I’ll do that.”

The Great Hall was busier than it had been when they’d left, and the remains of lunch were laid out on the tables. Gabriel spotted Michael and Hermione at the Gryffindor table and headed over to join them.

"Hey." Gabriel slid in next to them. Hermione, and Ron, who was sitting next to her, looked up at Vali and Narvi.

"Who're they?" Hermione asked.

"Technically cousins. Distant ones, though."

"I'm Neil," Narvi said. "This is my brother, Vincent."

Gabriel internally raised his eyebrows at the names, but didn't say anything, and merely moved to make room on the bench.

"This isn't your table," said Vail, glancing down at Gabriel's bronze and blue tie but sitting down anyway.

"It's hers," said Gabriel, poking a thumb towards Hermione. "This is Hermione, by the way, and that's Michael. And that's Ron." Vali reacted with poorly-disguised surprise at Hermione and Ron’s names, while Narvi held a much better poker face.

"Hello," said Michael, watching the twins curiously.

"Friends of yours?" Narvi asked, shoving Vali over with his foot before taking a seat.

"Yes," Gabriel said, rolling his eyes. "Did you think I just chose a seat randomly?"

"Well, you never know." Vali rested his chin on one hand. "So you're the guys who put up with my cousin." There was the tiniest of pauses before the last word, but Vali wasn't Gabriel's son for nothing. Gabriel doubted that even Hermione noticed.

"I'd say we do more than just put up with him," said Hermione. "Are you twins?"

"Would we be anything else?" Vali and Narvi were exactly identical, the only difference being that Narvi's hair was much shorter and the ends looked much blonder than their usual reddish brown.

"Well - I suppose not-"

"Do my ears deceive me-"

"Or is there another pair of twins in the vicinity?"

Fred and George were leaning over the table with huge grins.

* * *

 

Sirius showed up just after lunch, and he seemed rather surprised to see Vali and Narvi - obviously, he hadn't expected anyone else to show up for Gabriel.

"Who're they?" Sirius asked. "Er, sorry I'm late. Got held up."

"It's fine. These are my cousins on my uncle's side - you know, the uncle I stay with."

"Right." Sirius held out his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You too." Vali accepted it. "I'm Vincent, this is my brother Neil - unfortunately our father couldn't make it." Gabriel had to try very hard not to laugh, both at the mental image he suddenly got of Balthazar as their father and the fact that he was standing maybe six inches away from Vali.

There was a reason Loki had been the god of lies. They were hilarious, in the proper situation.

It turned out that Vali and Narvi got along well with Sirius (maybe a little too well) and the evening sped by until Gabriel was heading down to the Quidditch pitch that night with the twins.

"Good luck, though I don't think you'll need it." Vali said as they got closer. "It doesn’t seem like much fun from this end, though. A maze isn’t really a spectator sport unless they've got some sort of screen that lets you see all the champions."

"I doubt it." Narvi grinned at Gabriel. "I think we should be wishing the other champions good luck, unless they've magically discovered who they're up against."

"Shut up," Gabriel said affectionately. "You'd better go up to the stands, they'll think you're giving me last minute advice."

Vali left readily; Narvi lingered.

“Um - be careful, I guess,” he said, “with your Grace or whatever the way it is. If things are happening the way I remember, there’s some bad stuff happening with this.” He hesitated, and then blurted, “Bye, Dad,” and hurried to follow his brother.

Gabriel watched him go with a confusing mix of wariness and warmth battling it out inside him.

Gabriel approached the pitch cautiously, the warning ringing in his head. There was an artificial clearing where the other three champions were already waiting, in front of a rough doorway shape in the maze wall. Several teachers, all wearing luminous red stars in various locations, were announced to be patrolling the maze in case of danger.

Well, didn't that bode well for what they'd be facing.

Cedric went in first, once the stands had filled up and Bagman had made whatever announcements needed to be made. They waited a minute and then Gabriel, who was in second for some reason, entered the maze.

It was gloomy, the hedges stretching up on either side and fading into darkness as the path led on. Obviously an intimidation technique, or perhaps a coincidence, but the height of the hedges and the timing of the task (the sky was already fading to a dark cobalt blue) made Gabriel wonder whether it hadn't been on purpose.

The path Gabriel chose was almost unnervingly clear of any obstacles. He was sure that he should have encountered  _ something  _ by now; wasn't the maze supposed to be challenging?

It was nearly half an hour before he encountered anything.

Gabriel rounded the corner and ran straight into his brother.

Gabriel leaped backwards, alarm jolting through him, but Lucifer stumbled backwards and nearly fell.  _ What?  _

"Hold on, you're a boggart!” Relief swamped Gabriel. “Riddikulus!" Not-Lucifer grew a mustache which kept growing and buried him in hair as Gabriel darted past. 

For a moment, he’d almost thought that was what Narvi had warned him about.

Gabriel’s wand remained by his side most of the time, since even in the gloom Gabriel could still tell when he was about to crash into a hedge or where the path went. The maze was still, for the most part, oddly empty of anything save Gabriel.

Someone screamed.

Gabriel whirled around, but it had already stopped. It was coming from the left, but Gabriel had no idea of how far away the screamer was - or even who had screamed. Had someone lost to whatever creatures were supposedly in here?

Nothing else broke the silence, and as far as Gabriel could see, there were no red sparks sent up. Slightly more warily, he continued on.

The maze seemed even quieter now, but with a more ominous air. Gabriel could hear distant noise and the occasional rustle of the hedges, but nothing else approached him.

Something was off. There was no way he was just being ignored by everything in the maze...unless whatever creatures were in here were sentient enough to know to go the other way.

...Gabriel doubted that.

* * *

 

"What are you doing? What the  _ hell  _ are you doing?"

Gabriel glanced to the side when that got yelled. It was Cedric - he must have been on a path right next to Gabriel's.

" _ Crucio! _ "

Holy shit.

The air was full of screams as the spell took effect and was it  _ seriously  _ that important for them to win this? Humans were ridiculous!

Gabriel blasted a hole through the hedge, and as the spell caught whoever was torturing Cedric his yells abruptly died out. Gabriel leaped through the hole and nearly landed on Cedric, who was lying on the ground. Krum was slumped against the hedges on the other side, obviously unconscious.

"Thanks," gasped Cedric. "I don't...I didn't think he'd...do something like that. I thought he was alright."

"He probably got Fleur," Gabriel muttered, half to himself. "She must have been the one who screamed earlier."

Cedric looked rather pale. He glanced down at Krum. "Should we just leave him here?"

"He'll be fine." Gabriel leaned over Krum on the pretense of seeing if he was hurt and put a hand on his forehead. There was definitely a trace of something...most likely the Imperius Curse, but the trace had faded so that Gabriel couldn't tell who had cast it. "See you."

Gabriel stood up and took off down the path. He heard Cedric behind him a few moments later, and when he glanced up there were red sparks hovering in the air to mark where Krum had fallen.

The kid was too nice for his own good.

* * *

 

Gabriel encountered a sphinx a few hours in, which took him by surprise, but the riddle was easy enough. He’d thought that was the sole exception to his strange, unchallenged run through the maze, but he’d been proven wrong when, only feet away from the cup and racing Cedric for it, he was taken by surprise by one of those huge spiders from the Forest.

_ Again. _

Cedric was hurriedly backed away from the spider (and by extension, the plinth with the trophy) as Gabriel forced the spider to drop him. Gabriel landed heavily on his leg and winced as he felt it break. He let it crumple underneath him - well, let was a strong word, preoccupied as he was with the flare of pain from his missing wings. Cedric threw him a worried look as he raised his wand, and Gabriel wondered how he’d be able to play off his leg miraculously un-breaking.

"Stupefy!" The spider jerked backwards from the force of both spells. Cedric had cast it at the same time. The spider collapsed with a thud that rumbled through the ground,, slumping into one of the other paths which led to the center.

Gabriel leaped to his feet and saw Cedric sprint for the cup. Gabriel didn’t care about winning, but in the heat of the moment he was really a competitive sort of person.

Their hands closed around it at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwahahaha.
> 
> Cheer up, you've only got to wait 'til Friday.
> 
> Also, there's another fan favorite from Supernatural popping up soon, but no hints as to who...


	35. The Graveyard and the Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ARE YOU READY FOR THIS
> 
> I'll answer that. No, you're not. You really are not. I doubt ANY of you were expecting this to happen. Let me know if I was right.

Gabriel and Cedric hit the ground with a thump and a few muffled curses.

"What the hell was that?" Gabriel demanded, jumping to his feet

"It must have been a portkey," Cedric said, glancing around. He’d landed badly, and winced as he stood. 

They had been transported to some sort of cemetery, definitely nowhere near Hogwarts as the mountains which surrounded the school had vanished.

"Great," Gabriel muttered. "This task is even crazier than I thought." Unless this was what Narvi warned him about.

"I don't think this is part of the task,” Cedric said.

"Oh, well, that's  _ much  _ better."

The graveyard looked like it had come straight from the set of a bad horror movie. Wisps of fog, huge tree, ominous gravestones, that one cliche grave with a robed figure carrying a scythe - it was all there. There was even a house standing alone on the crest of a nearby hill, as if to show that they were far away from the town.

"Wands out, d'you reckon?" Cedric asked nervously, but Gabriel didn't answer, surveying their surroundings with narrow eyes. They were still in Britain, that much he could figure out. It was unlikely the 'portkey', whatever that was, had managed to take them overseas. But the graveyard didn't offer many clues as to their location.

Something crunched and both of them whirled around, Cedric brandishing his wand. There was a short, robed figure making their way towards them slowly, stopping next to the grave with the statue. It walked like it was holding something in both arms, some sort of bundle which had become slightly easier to see as the figure had come closer. Was it a folded pair of robes? A baby? It was hard to tell.

They stood there for several moments, just staring at each other. The figure, whose hood was pulled up so that their face fell into shadow, didn't make any move for a wand or any other weapon or move at all.

And then a high, cold voice spoke from the vicinity of the bundle.

" _ Kill the spare." _

Gabriel yanked Cedric to the side and Cedric promptly tripped backwards, sending them both to the ground and Gabriel directly into the path of the green spell.

* * *

 

"Okay," Gabriel said aloud, sending a look at the figure standing opposite him in the blank white landscape. "There is no way that spell actually worked. Or that this is  _ at all  _ a coincidence."

"What makes you say that?" asked the figure mildly. "Perhaps you're just rather unfortunate."

"Okay," said Gabriel again, skeptically. "So you're saying that Death just  _ happened  _ to be in the area the exact same time that I get hit with a curse like that. We both know killing curses wouldn’t affect me!"

Death nodded, conceding the point. "Most likely would have happened all the same,” he said. “I'm surprised you reacted so quickly to save Cedric ."

"He's seventeen," scoffed Gabriel. "He's still a kid, really. So what do you want?"

"How rude," Death observed. "You'd think I'd interrupted something important. Don't worry, Gabriel, I'm not here to reap you."

"Then what did you want to talk so desperately for?" Gabriel frowned at the white area they were in. "And did you really have to borrow my mind to do it?"

"Well, I'm certainly not going to let you inside mine." Death walked forward, cane swinging. He was wearing the same suit he'd been in last time Gabriel had seen him, which didn't make a whole lot of sense considering that style of suit hadn't existed back then. "And it's come to my attention that you have something of mine."

"I what?" Gabriel raised his eyebrow. "I think I would have noticed owning something of yours."

"That cloak of yours is rather impressive, is it not?"

Gabriel paused. "Well. That explains a lot."

"Indeed. Have you heard of the Tales of Beedle the Bard?" Death’s cane tapped on the ground, the resulting noise somehow pointed, like a guest tapping a spoon against a wineglass whose attempts to make a toast have been ignored for the last ten minutes.

"I haven't read them, if that's what you're asking."

"Pity. Read them later. You'll know which one I mean. And I'd like my cloak back."

"Sure,” Gabriel said, “except I kind of need it. I don't have a lot of power to waste on invisibility anymore, which you know already, don't you?"

Death gave an exaggerated sigh. "Yes. I do know. Which is why I'm willing to offer something in return, as long as you return to me the cloak and two other items."

Gabriel watched Death thoughtfully. It wasn't like the Horseman didn't keep his word, but he didn’t know what Death could, or would, offer him in exchange. One get-out-of-Death free pass? "I don't have it on me at the moment."

"I know you don't.” Gabriel let the condescending tone pass. “I will arrive later to retrieve it."

"What's your return offer?"

Death inclined his head, as if gesturing to something. "I believe there is someone who's been wanting to speak to you."

He vanished as Gabriel turned around, curious. There was another person, this one looking not even as old as Fenris, and one who Gabriel recognized immediately.

He  _ had  _ seen the same face staring back from the mirror for over fourteen years, after all.

"Hello," said Harry Potter. Gabriel was almost too surprised to answer. 

"Shouldn't you be younger?" Gabriel finally asked. He distinctly remembered Harry being a baby, not two or three years old.

"I was sharing a mind with you for months," Harry said. "My mind grew up - I guess my soul got affected to."

_ What was left of it.  _ "How did you managed to convince Death to bring me here to talk?"

"He was the one who came and got me," Harry replied, shrugging. "He said I was interesting and when I asked about you he got all weird like he'd remembered something."

The cloak, of course. Death must have realized that Gabriel had it, and that he could use Harry as a bartering tool. But to what end? Gabriel couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do that required a chat with his vessel. Though, Gabriel thought with a twist of guilt, he  _ had  _ sort of kicked the kid out of his own body. Indirectly. 

"I wanted to talk to you because I thought a lot about it." Harry interrupted Gabriel's thoughts. "And I wanted to be and I was at first, but...I'm not mad at you."

What?

"I just..." Harry fidgeted uncomfortably in place, like he was embarrassed. "At first I was mad 'cause it was my body and you took it...but then I found out that you didn't really have a choice in it either, and I guess...I changed my mind. So you can still use my body, if you want, since I can't anymore."

It took Gabriel a moment to realize the magnitude of that simple statement.

" _ Oh, _ " he breathed.  _ Consent.  _ Damnit, how had that never occurred to him, the whole time? Gabriel looked back down at Harry.

"Thank you," he said as sincerely as he could, smiling. Harry obviously didn't understand the effect of his words, but he nodded anyway. The white surroundings and Harry began to bleed away, trails of darkness shooting through them until Gabriel found himself flat on his back, back in the graveyard and staring up at the sky.

Gabriel closed his eyes again quickly. If he had been out for long, there was no need to announce his return immediately. He must have fallen, so as far as anyone knew, he was dead. Instead, he listened for a trace of what was going on.

Someone was talking, a low voice, moving around - whoever it was, they must have been walking around as they spoke. Gabriel didn't recognize the voice. There was also someone sobbing faintly in the background, also unrecognizable.

Gabriel, however, was far more interested in the power slowly leaking back into him. It was as though a dam had been removed and everything he'd lost that Halloween had come rushing back to him, power welling up in the half-empty space where his Grace sat inside him.

Consent was a hell of a thing. And even if it as a whole was a little reduced - he was still cut off from Heaven, after all - Gabriel wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Opening his eyes a crack revealed an interesting sight. He was lying to the side of a group of black-robed figures, all who had the same black magic on their forearms as Snape and Karkaroff - except now it was much darker, roiling nearly up to their elbow and black as pitch. The man in the middle was almost completely black, comparable to a demon - and his physical appearance wasn't much better.

He didn't even have a  _ nose _ .

But his soul - oh, that was interesting. Darker than the magic which swallowed and cloaked him, and oddly familiar...

And if Gabriel wasn't mistaken, he was now in the presence of Voldemort and his Death whatevers.

Cedric, pale and gagged, was tied to the ornate tombstone several feet away. He looked absolutely terrified, but for the moment Voldemort wasn't paying him any attention. Cedric also hadn't noticed Gabriel quite yet.

Gabriel let a grin creep across his face. He might be missing two of them, but the remaining four wings now worked perfectly.

With little more than a rustle Gabriel vanished and landed invisibly behind the tombstone Cedric was tied to. A single touch (and  _ oh  _ it was good to be back) severed the ropes and Gabriel was quick to fly Cedric to the other side of the graveyard before anyone noticed.

If anything, this scared Cedric even more once Gabriel stopped being invisible. "Harry - but you-"

Gabriel put a finger to his lips and winked, silencing Cedric. He summoned the portkey with a gesture -  it was still active with magic, and both it and Cedric vanished as soon as they collided.

Voldemort was still monologuing, but at that moment he happened to turn around and finally figure out that Gabriel had vanished.

Gabriel, who had turned himself invisible again, grinned as he watched the snakelike man scream at his followers. They really were idiots.

"Find him!" Voldemort screamed. "The boy was  _ dead!  _ He could not have been taken far!"

"Well, wrong on both counts, then, since I wasn't taken anywhere." said Gabriel conversationally, stepping forward and uncloaking himself to pretend he'd been hiding behind one of the tombstones. Every one of the robed figures whipped around to face him, revealing that Voldemort had red eyes and the rest of them wore silver masks.

As if that would protect their identity from Gabriel. He'd known who every one of them was as soon as he got a look at their souls.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort hissed. "Back from the dead."

"Voldemort."

A shiver went around the group. Wow, even his followers didn't like using his name? Wimps.

"So," Voldemort said softly. "You survived once again...but no matter...I have already returned...and whatever protections guard you will be useless, with your blood used to aid in my revival..."

What?

Gabriel's eyes flickered down, glancing over himself, and he finally noticed a long cut in his robes over the arm.  _ That  _ wasn’t good. A Voldemort with angelic blood was bad news - but he’d been ‘dead’, so had it counted? Gabriel was pretty sure he’d stayed in his vessel, but Death  _ had  _ pulled him away for a chat, and who knew what kind of consequences any of that would have.

Hopefully negative ones, considering the state of the guy's soul.

"But you," Voldemort continued, "There is something interesting about you. When I possessed Quirrell, you faced me with unnatural power...power which is now useless against me."

"I doubt that." Gabriel replied, spinning his wand in one hand.

"Why don't we see?  _ Crucio!" _

The Cruciatus curse turned out to be similar to the Imperius - in this case, it tricked the mind into thinking that the person was in intense pain. Gabriel, like with the Imperius, ignored the message.

"Nice trick," Gabriel said. "But I think mine is better."

Voldemort narrowly avoided the spell Gabriel shot at him, and it hit a random death eater instead, knocking him out and sending his mask askew. Voldemort whirled dramatically and cast another at Gabriel, which he easily blocked.

"You'll have to do better than that," Gabriel taunted, then ducked to avoid a stray spell from one of Voldemort's minions. "Rude!" A simple snap had them all crumpling to the ground.

Voldemort stared in shock. "You would kill so easily?"

"They're not dead, Einstein," Gabriel said snarkily. He really couldn't be bothered to waste Grace on those morons, and it was much easier to just knock them out. His Grace was still returning bit by bit, so why make the process even slower? He cast another quick spell at Voldemort, who dodged it easily.

Snarling, Voldemort sent back a barrage of spells, all soaring towards Gabriel. He was fast, casting them just a second after the preceding one had left his wand. 

Gabriel was faster.

One glanced off his shoulder, tearing a long gash in the cloth and muscle. Gabriel barely felt it except for the faint sting of nerves sending up the alarm. He backhanded an oily red one back towards Voldemort, baring his teeth in something between a grin and a snarl.

There was a sharp crack, and Voldemort vanished in a whirl of robes just before the spell hit him. Gabriel scowled at the place Voldemort had just been standing. 

"Coward,” he told the empty graveyard and the unconscious Death Eaters. Gabriel rubbed his shoulder, healing the gash and fixing the fabric. Cedric was gone, and it wouldn’t do to let him tell the whole story; Gabriel supposed he should get back to Hogwarts. He sighed.

“This is going to be difficult to explain.”

* * *

 

When he returned to Hogwarts, Gabriel did  _ not _ show up in a dramatic light show that could be reasonably passed off as accidental magic.

What he did do was find Dumbledore and eavesdrop on the conversation the headmaster was having, which was being held in Moody's office. Apparently, the Moody who had been teaching all year was an imposter in Voldemort's service. That explained why he had the magic on his arm too, and now that Gabriel got a look at the actual tattoo he saw that it was a black version of the symbol which had been shot up at the World Cup.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed when the man - who was named Barty Crouch, the son of the man who was supposed to be a triwizard judge and was now apparently dead - confessed that he had been the one to enter Gabriel's name. He admitted to quite a number of other things as well, under influence of some sort of truth potion, the least of which was murdering his father. Gabriel had had a long time to think about what he’d like to do to whoever had put him in the Tournament, and now he got to decide. It was going to be tempting to focus just on that, and not the murder or fascist death cult membership, but Gabriel was ever imaginative.

The second thing he did (after finishing with Barty) was find Vali and Narvi, who were in the hospital wing interrogating Cedric. By now Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape had showed up, and Hermione and Michael were there as well, no doubt trying to get answers as to what had happened to Gabriel. There were two adults Gabriel recognized from earlier that day as Cedric's parents. Even Sirius and Remus had shown up, probably in the same group as Hermione and Michael.

"What do you mean, you don't know what happened to him?" Michael demanded of a still-pale Cedric. Madam Pomfrey looked outraged.

"Enough!" She practically yelled, shooing everyone farther away from Cedric's bed. "I will not have you interrogating my patient any longer!"

"So we're not allowed to try and find out what happened?" Narvi demanded.

"Madam Pomfrey-" Dumbledore raised his hand placatingly. "If I thought giving Mr. Diggory a night to recover would help dull the horror of what had happened, I would give you free rein. But waiting will only make it that much sharper tomorrow."

"Headmaster, I-" Madam Pomfrey looked entirely reluctant. "Are you sure?"

"Very." Dumbledore said solemnly. "Mr. Diggory - I am sorry, but I must ask you to tell me what happened tonight."

Madam Pomfrey shook her head and retreated to her office, muttering under her breath.

Cedric took a shaky breath and began to talk, beginning from when he and Gabriel both grabbed the cup. His father had a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed tightly as the story progressed. Cedric faltered when he reached the part just before the killing curse was fired.

"What happened next?" Dumbledore prompted gently. "What was the spell he used?"

"The..." Cedric swallowed. "It...the killing curse. But-” he said hastily as everyone gasped or looked horrified, “it didn’t - I don’t  _ know  _ what happened, but he-”

“Lived?” Gabriel suggested, making himself fully visible. It wasn’t quite a snappy one-liner, but he thought it was pretty good as far as dramatics went.

It wasn't like his brothers were going to find him here anyway, and if Dumbledore found out about his true nature then that just increased the chances of Gabriel being able to skip out on the last three years. Besides, their reactions were going to be hilarious.

All the people in the room whipped around to look at Gabriel, who was standing next to the nearest empty bed. Well, almost all of them - the three Diggorys simultaneously closed their eyes and fell asleep, causing them to miss whatever conversation might follow.

"Harry!" Hermione wrapped Gabriel in a tight hug as the adults in the room (minus Vali and Narvi, who both looked slightly murderous) looked in alarm at the Diggorys.

Gabriel waved dismissively as he disentangled himself from Hermione. "Don't worry, they're just asleep."

"You did this?" asked Remus incredulously.

"Well," Gabriel shrugged. "I figured you'd ask questions as to how I got here so suddenly, and it wasn't an explanation I felt like giving to complete strangers."

"You mean-" Michael quickly cut nemself off, but Dumbledore was already looking at nem with a thoughtful gaze.

"You know what Harry is talking about?" He asked gravely.

"Sort of..?" Michael looked questioningly at Gabriel out of the corner of nir eyes, as Gabriel rolled his. Michael was a horrible liar.

"You couldn't have done that to the Diggorys," Snape sneered at Gabriel. "You didn't even move. Magic doesn't work that way."

"Who said I was using magic?"

Dumbledore was staring at Gabriel now. "I had hoped," he said softly, "that I was wrong." Now both McGonagall and Snape were staring at him.

"Albus?" McGonagall said sharply. "What do you mean?"

"I was speaking to the merpeople after the second task," Dumbledore said heavily, "When they used a rather strange word in reference to Mr. Potter. But then..." he looked incredibly old in that moment. "You aren't Harry Potter, are you."

Absolute silence.

"Dumbledore, what are you talking about?" Sirius said, smiling slightly, like he thought Dumbledore was joking.

"No, he's got it right," said Gabriel mildly. "I did wonder about the merpeople, though. Figures that they ruined the surprise."

McGonagall had taken a seat heavily, and Sirius looked like he was close behind. Snape was staring at Gabriel in outright surprise, which looked odd on his face.

"Not...I don't understand," McGonagall said after a long silence had gone by. No one else seemed sure what to say. "How did this happen?"

" _ That  _ is a very long story and even I'm not entirely sure of some the details," Gabriel answered, shrugging. "Long story short, I was passing by the Potter's in 1998 and got mixed up in whatever ritual Lily concocted to protect Harry. Powerful magic going on there, which I’m sure you guessed."

Sirius gave a disbelieving laugh. "What - Dumbledore, tell me you don't believe this!"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Why would he have a reason to lie?"

Sirius's expression changed in a heartbeat. The smile darkened into a snarl and his wand was at Gabriel's throat before anyone could move.

Remus grabbed Sirius's arm, as if to pull it away, but he was also staring at Gabriel with something akin to betrayal.

Gabriel just looked at Sirius, keeping his expression neutral. "If it will make you feel better, go ahead."

"Get out of my godson." There was loathing behind every syllable.  


"So what, you can be left with a dead body?"

Sirius recoiled as if struck, his wand clattering to the floor. Gabriel winced at the naked pain that flashed across Sirius' face, but kept it internal. However much he regretted the circumstances of the possession, he couldn’t change what had happened fourteen years ago.

"A one year old can't survive that curse, no matter how much you'd like to believe it," Gabriel said softly. "Sorry."

Remus turned to Michael and Hermione. "You knew this and didn't tell anyone?" He asked weakly.

"We promised not to," Hermione said stubbornly.

"And you thought a promise was more important than us needing to know?" McGonagall questioned incredulously.

"It wasn't your business," Michael replied, a bit stiffly.

"Does anyone else know?" Dumbledore asked. There was a sort of sadness lingering in his eyes, and maybe guilt, and he looked his age for the first time that Gabriel could remember.

"Ron," Gabriel replied. "After what happened in the shrieking shack at the end of last year, they demanded an explanation."

"And I assume they know what you are as well?" Dumbledore was taking this very calmly, Gabriel thought, but then again he'd had time to think over it.

"They do."

"And what about you?" Sirius rounded angrily on Vali and Narvi. "You don't seem upset at all! Isn't he your cousin?"

"We're related to him, not this Potter kid," Narvi snapped back. "I don't see any reason we should be upset."

"Enough!" Dumbledore stood up. "There will be no more arguing. We have all received..." he took a deep breath. "A shock," Dumbledore continued eventually.

"Dumbledore-"

"Sirius," Dumbledore said over McGonagall's protest, "If you would like to leave, no one would blame you."

Sirius glared at Gabriel. "No," he said darkly. "I'm finding out exactly what possessed my godson."

"It wasn't willing, you know." Gabriel said irritably. "Whatever ritual was meant to protect Harry somehow decided that I was his soul or whatever and locked me in here. If I’d had a choice I would have been  _ long _ gone, believe me."

"But what are you?" Dumbledore pressed, a glint of something other than amusement in his eyes, which was novel. Gabriel figured it was probably easier to give him an answer now.

"I think the technical term is angel."

" _ Excuse me?"  _ McGonagall said, pressing her hand onto her chest again. 

"But they don't exist," said Remus in shock, distracted from the news of Harry's death.

"Actually, I'm standing right in front of you."

"This is outrageous," Snape's expression had reverted back to a sneer, which seemed to be the default. "Headmaster, I refuse to believe-"

Gabriel decided to go for the foolproof method. 

The torches which lit the hospital wing guttered in their brackets, most of them going out as Gabriel's wings unfolded. Gabriel let his Grace flare a little in his eyes as the shadows of his four remaining wings spread across the hospital wing walls, much larger than any shadow a human boy would be able to cast. And far more inhuman.

Gabriel tucked his wings back away. The torches cautiously relit themselves. Everyone, even Vali and Narvi, was staring. While they did know that he was a little more than just Loki, he'd never shown off like that in front of them.

Hermione eventually broke the silence. "Merlin's pants." No one even told her off for rude language - McGonagall appeared too shocked to say anything, much less reprimand her.

Even Dumbledore looked stunned silent. Snape appeared to be having a fierce internal battle.

"Are we done debating my existence yet?" Gabriel asked.

"I - I suppose," said Dumbledore, looking thoroughly bewildered. "Is it possible for you to give a more in-depth explanation as to how you ended up as Harry Potter?"

This was going to take forever.

* * *

 

No one spoke right away once Gabriel finished telling the story for the third time. Sirius was sitting down with his head buried in his hands. Remus was standing behind his chair, gripping the back of it tightly.

Dumbledore spoke after several minutes. "And what will you do now?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Gabriel cocked his head.

"What happens now? You must have had some reason for coming to Hogwarts - will you continue to do so?" That caused several people to sit up straighter.

"Depends," Gabriel said slowly. "The problem that convinced me to come here in the first place has been taken care of, but I do understand that Harry Potter can't just vanish from the wizarding world." He glanced at the sleeping Cedric. "I assume he told you about Voldemort?"

"He did," said Dumbledore evenly, ignoring the slight flinches that almost everyone else made at the name.

"He's another problem." Gabriel displayed the cut in the arm robes. "Normally, taking blood to aid in a ritual wouldn't be as big a deal, but in a ritual like this, as well as  _ my  _ blood...you can see why it's a little more worrying."

Dumbledore had sat up straight. "What sort of side effects might there be?"

"Hopefully only negative ones, considering how dark he was, but it's impossible to know." Gabriel shrugged, absentmindedly running a finger over the tear and repairing it. noticing that Michael was watching him discreetly. "I can’t speak from previous experience. Nothing like this has ever happened before."

"But you're willing to help?" Dumbledore's gaze had turned sharp as flint.

"I'm not taking orders from anyone, but it's partly my problem now." Gabriel's eyes flickered to Vali and Narvi. "I've got other people to worry about."

"I understand." Dumbledore nodded.

Gabriel suddenly remembered something. "Oh, you should also probably check wherever that portkey went to. There's gonna be a load of unconscious death eaters there, unless someone came and got them."

* * *

 

Death was waiting for Gabriel when he got back to the empty dorm.

"Bit impatient, aren't you?" Gabriel kicked his trunk open and pulled out the cloak. "This is yours, then."

"Indeed." Death took it and swung it around himself, the cloak melting into his long jacket. "Don't forget about the other two that I mentioned."

"Course not."

"I mean it. No 'misplacing' anything once you've located it, or pretending you've got to conserve your power."

Gabriel held both his hands up. "I won't! It's like you don't even trust me."

"Why should I?"

Gabriel thought about his track record, then shrugged. Fair enough. "I've got one thing to ask of you, though."

"A favor?" Death didn't react beyond his tone becoming slightly incredulous. "I believe I already granted you one."

"Yeah, that for the cloak." Gabriel held out two worn pieces of parchment - two of the three letters he'd found in Muriel's room. "For two other items - two letters to be delivered."

Death didn't even blink at the names on the outside. "And you can't deliver them yourself?"

"You know you're the only one who can get in and out of the cage without opening it."

"True enough." Death tucked the letters into an invisible pocket. "I had better receive the wand and the stone, Gabriel."

"I'll get them."

"Make sure you do." Death walked around the corner bedpost of the nearest bed and didn't reappear on the other side.

* * *

 

The last few days of term were filled with whispering and pointing. No one but Gabriel and Cedric knew the full details of what had happened, and neither of them had told anyone save those who had been in the hospital wing, so of course rumors were rife.

Dumbledore, of course, gave a speech at the end of the year explaining that Voldemort had returned, but Gabriel didn't think that the majority of the student population had actually taken him seriously. They certainly didn't seem very concerned about it in the days that followed.

The train ride home was largely uninterrupted. Ron was there, but Draco didn't come over the entire time. His father had been one of the masked men in the graveyard, so it was understandable. If stupid. Gabriel didn’t seek him out; he didn’t have any particular connection to the younger Malfoy, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear whatever the kid had to say.

Ginny was there as well, and sitting a little too close to Michael, but no one commented on it, not even Ron, who most likely didn't even notice. Gabriel  _ did  _ notice, but he figured it was Michael’s business.

Gabriel was just enjoying the fact that he could go straight home from the train station in seconds now instead of navigating his way through London.

He landed on the doorstep with his trunk and unlocked the door, stepping inside and closing it behind him. " _ Hello? _ "

There was a shriek from somewhere farther away in the house and the sound of rapid footsteps. Gabriel laughed quietly and put his trunk down before Fenris burst around the corner.

"Faðir!" Fenris leaped towards him.

" _ Hi! _ " Gabriel caught Fenris and swung him up as Fenris giggled. " _ You have a good time with Sigyn? _ "

Fenris wrapped his arms around Gabriel's neck. " _ Uh-huh! She's really nice. And so are Vali and Narvi. _ "

" _ Oh really?That’s good. _ "

More footsteps pounded in the hall and Jormungand skidded around the corner, closely followed by Slepnir. "Faðir!"

" _ Hi! Fenris was just telling me about how good you all were while I was gone. _ " Gabriel grinned. " _ You were good, right? _ "

" _ Yes! _ " Fenris said enthusiastically.

" _ Nooo, _ " Jormungand protested. " _ You spilled the  _ chocolate  _ powder everywhere. _ " They’d learned one word in English at least, Gabriel thought wryly, though he could hardly protest their taste.

" _ No I didn't! _ " Fenris stuck out his tongue at Jormungand.

" _ I'm sure it was an accident, _ " Gabriel said as he hoisted Fenris higher in his arms. " _ Anything else interesting happen? _ "

Jormungand thought for a minute. " _ We went to see a  _ movie."

" _ It was the dragon _ movie  _ but different! _ " Slepnir said excitedly.

" _ A _ sequel?" Gabriel asked, using the English word.

" _ Yes, that. _ "

"They were thrilled," said Sigyn. Gabriel looked up to see her standing in the doorway. "I see you're back."

"I am." Gabriel nudged his trunk out of the way with his foot, careful to keep a hold of Fenris. "Are you going to bail on me until next year?"

" _ Stop talking in other words, _ " Fenris demanded.

" _ Other languages _ ," Gabriel corrected him. Sigyn was watching with a guarded expression.

"No," she said eventually. "But don't think this is some sort of invitation."

"Never crossed my mind."

"Good." Sigyn turned and left sharply, Slepnir staring after her with a puzzled expression.

" _ Why doesn't Sigyn like you? _ " He asked, turning to look up at Gabriel.

" _ That _ ," said Gabriel, ruffling Slepnir's hair, " _ Is a very long story you are not nearly old enough to hear yet _ ."

It was good to be back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A while ago I did a short story covering Gabriel and Sigyn's relationship and why it fell apart, but...it didn't turn out well and I ended up hating where I'd taken it. So something along those lines might appear in a later story, but like I said, anything concerning the pagan side of things is going to be left sorta to your imagination until this story ends.
> 
> Speaking of endings, as of this chapter, we are 3/7 of the way there! Don't get too disappointed, there's still forty chapters left for me to surprise you.


	36. Balthazar and the Order

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, haha. Apparently I keep doing this thing where I forget about update days.
> 
> I'm sick, so I claim zero responsibility.
> 
> The newer chapters are gonna be pretty tough. How will everyone deal with the return of Voldemort? I've also been asked about Snape. Personally, I think he was kind of an a-hole in the books too, so he's not too broken up over Harry's death. He only really cared about Lily. But he is smart enough not to antagonize an angel.

Balthazar seemed to be in a state of disbelief.

He'd shown up a few weeks into summer and with a load of complaints, and had frozen at the sight of Slepnir, Fenris, and Jormungandr practically climbing over Gabriel.

"Gabriel," he said carefully. "Is there a particular reason there are a load of tiny pagans in the house?"

"Hello to you to, Balthazar." Gabriel said idly. "Yes, I have a reason, and no, they're not leaving. Out of curiosity, how did you get here?"

"I got a ride," Balthazar said shortly, still staring at the three boys. "Mind telling me your reason?"

" _Who is he?_ " Slepnir stage-whispered to Gabriel, who smothered a laugh at Balthazar's expression.

" _He's a friend_ ," Gabriel replied cheerfully. "Come on, Balthazar, don't you remember all the time I spent away from Heaven?"

If only Gabriel had had a camera just then. Balthazar's mouth dropped open, and he looked totally flabbergasted as realization crashed over him.

"You're not serious." Balthazar finally said. "Gabriel, you can't-"

"Nephilim are forbidden, I know," Gabriel waved the protest aside and stood up, still grinning. "However, last I checked, the kids of an angel and a god or goddess weren't nephilim."

"Of course you would be the one to have an accident," Balthazar muttered, finally looking back up at Gabriel. Gabriel put a hand over his heart.

"Balthazar, you wound me. Who said they were an accident?"

"Whatever. Gabriel, do you know what happened?"

Gabriel's smile faded slightly. "You mean upstairs."

" _Yes,_ that. Have you heard anything?"

"Slepnir," Gabriel said instead on answering Balthazar. " _Why don't you go pick out a_ movie _for you three to watch? I need to talk to this one_."

The three of them left the room eagerly, probably to watch the dragon movie for the eighteenth time.

"You lost your wings, didn't you?" Gabriel asked.

"What happened?" Balthazar pressed, ignoring the question. "I haven't been able to hear anyone else at all, it's like they're whispering!"

"Sit down." Gabriel explained what little he'd discovered to Balthazar, about how Metatron had used a spell which cast out the angels and Castiel had supposedly helped him.

"That's not all, is there." Balthazar was watching Gabriel closely. "What happened in the Fall? There's no way everyone survived that."

"Ezekiel didn't." Gabriel sighed. "Along with plenty of others. Neither did Naomi, but she might have been killed beforehand. Hael's gone too, but again no one's sure if she was killed in the Fall or afterwards. And those are only the ones I know about."

"And what about you?" Balthazar sounded almost jealous. "You didn't Fall. You've still got your wings, haven't you."

"Most of them." Gabriel shifted in his chair, suddenly very aware of the two lingering sore spots near the small of his back. "Balthazar-"

"Don't pity me." Balthazar said sharply. "I'm not a child, Gabriel."

"I know that." Gabriel remained silent for a moment as they both sat at the kitchen table, Balthazar seemingly unwilling to speak. "You're still welcome to stay, you know, even if there are 'a load of tiny pagans'." Gabriel resisted the temptation to use air quotes.

Balthazar didn't reply. Gabriel stood up and made to clap him on the shoulder or some other supportive gesture but decided against it at the last second, and left the room.

* * *

 Gabriel probably should have guessed that Sigyn and Balthazar living in the same house would turn out badly.

It was late at night when Sigyn returned from wherever she had been, and Gabriel and Balthazar were the only ones still awake. She passed through the room, and stopped when she saw Balthazar on the sofa.

"Who's he?"

"Hel- _lo."_ Balthazar's eyes flicked over Sigyn as he sat up from his reclined position. Gabriel grimaced apologetically as Sigyn gave Balthazar a venomous glare.

"Sorry about him,” he said. “He learned manners from street rats, apparently.”

Sigyn eyed Balthazar distastefully, and he seemed to wise up. "Another one of your kind?"

"Yes. And no, I'm not going to kick him out."

"Hmph." Sigyn strode away without another word.

"There a reason she's here?" Balthazar turned to look at Gabriel.

"First person I could think of who could be trusted to watch the kids while I was at Hogwarts,” Gabriel said honestly.

Balthazar rolled his eyes as he caught it. "And you didn't call me."

"You're my alcoholic little brother, of course I didn't." Gabriel stood up from the table he was sitting at, working on the homework while he had some uninterrupted time. "Besides, I think the mother of two of my kids was a better choice."

Balthazar started so badly he nearly fell off the sofa.

"You're _joking,"_ he said when he pulled himself back up. "She had two of them? But she looked like she hated you. And there's no way you managed to land someone like that."

"What's that supposed to mean? And for your information, the three you met earlier have a different mother."

"A different-?" Balthazar was outright staring at Gabriel. "I don't believe you."

"You said it yourself - Sigyn hates me. Why would she give me kids that young?" They weren't that young, really, but it wasn't like Balthazar could tell or needed to know.

"Well then, what about those three - where's their mother?"

Gabriel froze in the act of leaving the room, pausing just over the threshold. He should have expected the question, but...

"Angrboða," he said at length. "...She's dead."

"What?" There was a shuffling sound like Balthazar sitting upright hastily. "Gabriel." Balthazar's voice made his name sound like a question.

"It was in the fourteenth century. I've had time to get over it,” Gabriel said flatly, trying to say it quickly. It wasn’t a subject he liked to linger on.

"How?"

"That's none of your business."

"Is it related to the fact that you call your completely humanoid kids Slepnir, Jor, and Fenris, while Norse mythology claims that those three are a horse, giant snake, and wolf respectively?"

" _Do not. Ever. Mention that to me again."_ Gabriel wasn't aware of having grabbed the doorframe, but it was creaking ominously under his fingers. He took a deep breath and let go, flexing his fingers and ignoring the dents he'd left.

"Gabriel-"

_Slam._

The door closed with a crash that Gabriel made sure didn't reach the upstairs. He didn't think he'd ever be in the mood to have a discussion about _that._

* * *

 

Gabriel received several letters over the course of the summer, usually from Michael and Hermione, but near the end of July he received one from Dumbledore inviting him to sit in on the meeting of a group called the Order of the Phoenix the following Friday.

Gabriel was intrigued. The fact that it had been delivered by phoenix only made it more interesting, though Gabriel thought it likely that Dumbledore was just trying to show off. It had worked on Slepnir, at least, who had been sitting at the table with Gabriel when the phoenix and letter arrived.

It was the least informative letter about the organization he'd received all summer. Hermione and Michael's letters had been full of what they'd found out about it, complaints that they had been barred from attending meetings, and asking if he was going to do anything about Voldemort.

"Secret organization, huh?" Gabriel muttered, glancing down at the address for a meeting site at the bottom while Slepnir petted the phoenix, entranced. "Might as well check it out."

He sent a short reply that said he'd meet them the following Friday and had to coax Slepnir into letting him give the phoenix the letter. Even the phoenix seemed a little reluctant to leave, but that might have been Gabriel's fault.

" _What were you writing?_ "

"Try it in English, Slepnir." Gabriel had been working on languages with them - almost everyone spoke English these days, but Old Norse was basically nonexistent. All three had become intimately familiar with most permutations of the phrase ‘in English, please’.

Slepnir screwed up his face. "Where..."

"What."

"What are...you? Um..."

"Writing."

"What are you writing?"

"What was I writing, _since I’m not anymore_.”

" _English is too hard_." Slepnir slumped over, putting his head on the table.

" _You'll get it eventually._ " Gabriel patted his hand. “ _How’s history going?_ ”

“ _Boring,_ ” Slepnir said. “ _Narvi keeps trying to tell us about Napoleon instead of_ America _._ ”

“ _You like hearing about_ America?” There wasn’t a word for the continent in Norse, and Gabriel found himself smiling at the sound of Slepnir’s faint accent. It was cute.

“Mm-hm.” Slepnir nodded.

“ _You know, we were in_ America _for a little years and years ago. They called it Vinland, though._ ”

“ _Really?_ ” Slepnir immediately perked up. “ _That’s not in the book._ ”

“ _It didn’t last very long. People going_ viking _was only a lifestyle that lasted for a few centuries._ ” Not to mention they’d never done it year-round either, too busy with their farms and their families. Ah, simpler (and dirtier) times.

“ _I remember,_ ” Slepnir said. “ _Where was Vinland?_ ”

“ _Up north. We named Greenland and Iceland, too. You know those names?”_

Slepnir looked puzzled. “Grœnland and...Ísland?”

“ _I meant_ in English _,_ ” Gabriel said, amused.

“ _Ask Jormungand,_ ” Slepnir groaned. “ _I don’t know._ ”

“ _Oh, give it a try. They’re easy._ ”

Slepnir sighed and made an exaggerated affair of looking like he was thinking about it. “...Iceland?”

“And?”

“ _Just one!_ ”

Gabriel laughed. “ _Okay, okay. You did it right, so just one._ ”

* * *

 

Friday came all too quickly. Gabriel found the address easily, after ensuring that there was actually someone other than Balthazar at home to keep an eye on the kids. It turned out to be a small brick building across the street from a row of houses, one of which was strangely fuzzy. There was also a welcoming committee.

"Here," said Moody - presumably the real one - gruffly, thrusting a piece of parchment at Gabriel. Gabriel assumed he was the real Moody. He was accompanied by a younger woman with bright pink hair, and another man in elegant indigo robes.

"Hello to you to." Gabriel glanced down at the paper briefly. "What was the point of meeting in the middle of London?"

"Just read it," Moody snapped.

"Calm down, Mad-Eye," said the pink-haired woman. "I don't think he's going to attack us."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows at that. "Attack you? I think I'm missing something here."

The three of them exchanged wary glances.

"Dumbledore told us about what happened at the end of last year," the pink-haired girl said eventually. "About what you told him."

"Of course he did," Gabriel muttered, rolling his eyes and suppressing irritation. Was it impossible to keep anything secret anymore? He looked down at the parchment again.

_The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at number 12, Grimmauld Place, London._

Gabriel looked back up at the fuzzy house, which no longer looked quite so fuzzy or out-of-focus.

"Huh,” he said. “Interesting spell. I was wondering what was up with that house." He strode across the street towards it without waiting for the other three, idly setting fire to the parchment and letting the ash fall away. If they were going to great lengths to keep the house secret, they wouldn’t want him to leave the address lying around.

The door had some sort of metal snake knocker, but Gabriel just opened it himself instead of ringing the doorbell. The lock wasn’t too complicated to bypass.

"Are you back al - oh!" Mrs. Weasley had come out into the hall and stopped when she saw Gabriel in the doorway. "Er - I hadn't realized you'd arrived," she said, a bit cooler than she'd ever been with Gabriel before everyone found out who he really was.

"Surprise," Gabriel said, fake-cheerfully. He heard footsteps and the door creaked open again.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Weasley," said the pink-haired girl cheerfully, striding past Gabriel and nearly tripping over a large umbrella stand that looked like it had been made out of some creature's leg. "Is everyone still in there?"

"Yes, they were waiting for you to come back." Mrs. Weasley gestured to the door she'd just exited from.

"Excellent." Moody stumped over and left the hall, the level of noise coming from the room behind the door suddenly dropping. Curious, Gabriel followed him in.

"Ah, so you did come!" Dumbledore was sitting at the head of the table, which was full of all sorts of people, most of whom Gabriel didn't recognize. "I got your reply, of course, but one can never be sure. I have been stood up by a great many people in my life."

"This is your Order of the Phoenix?" Gabriel glanced around the room, noting that everyone was staring at him, and that Sirius was nowhere to be seen. Gabriel would have thought he'd be first in line for this sort of thing. "And I see you've spoiled my surprise."

"I wasn’t aware you wanted-"

"I wasn't actually planning on telling anyone else, but it's not like I can do anything about it now." Gabriel put a hand to his chin in pretend thought. "Unless you count wiping your collective memories - oh, sit down, I was joking." Several people had started and moved to stand up or for their wands when he mentioned memory-wiping. Gabriel pulled out the nearest empty chair and sat down. "So why invite me here?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I'm sure you remember the letter - this is the Order of the Phoenix, an organization dedicated to defending against Voldemort." The majority of the table flinched at the name.

"Just defending?" Gabriel asked.

"We can't predict his actions," said a witch in green defensively.

"I wasn't saying that," Gabriel retorted, glancing over at her. "I was saying, is there ever a point where you'd go on the offensive?"

Dumbledore waved his hand. "Voldemort-" Another flinch at the name. "-is not currently active, so either way, there are no battles to fight."

"What do you mean, he's not active?" Gabriel frowned. "I met the guy twice and he seems pretty flamboyant."

"You and Cedric were not meant to be able to warn anyone," Dumbledore explained. "I believe Voldemort-" Cue collective flinch. "-overestimated his ability to be able to kill the pair of you. Unfortunately, what with the Ministry ignoring his return-"

"The what now doing what?" Gabriel sat up straight. "You're joking."

"You didn't know?" Questioned the pink-haired witch.

Gabriel shot her a look. "I don't read the _Prophet_ and I don't care enough to go around investigating, so no. When did this happen?" He demanded, turning back to Dumbledore.

"I attempted to warn the Minister shortly after our conversation in the hospital wing," Dumbledore replied, looking unfazed. "Unfortunately, he is now insisting that I am senile and you are an attention-seeker."

"Rude," Gabriel muttered. "What are you doing about it?"

"Well, we've managed to convince some people - you have met Tonks and Kingsley, of course, they work for the Ministry." The pink-haired witch waved, and the dark-skinned man nodded. "They are our spies, of a sort."

Gabriel nodded. "Eyes in the enemy headquarters. Good move."

"I suppose you'd know," muttered Moody.

"Alastor," Dumbledore said warningly, but Gabriel put his hand up and turned around to face Moody.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.

Moody's magical eye swiveled around so that both eyes were looking right at Gabriel. "Well," he continued, "If you really are what you say you are, you'd have experience with war, wouldn't you?"

Gabriel arched one eyebrow. "Do I hear doubt?"

"I'm saying you've never shown that you can do anything beyond regular magic-"

"Maybe not to _you._ You're asking for proof?" Gabriel leaned forward. "So what you're saying is that you don't trust the leader of your organization."

The rest of the order were watching them in a sort of horrified fascination. Moody didn't back down.

"You could have tricked Dumbledore," he growled. "He trusts you enough, and magic could be used to fake whatever evidence you had."

"Alastor-" Dumbledore tried to intervene again.

"There a particular reason you're so against my existence?" Gabriel asked, standing up. Moody was already standing, leaning against the wall on the other side of the table.

Moody scoffed. "Angels," he muttered. "There's no such thing. If there were, you'd think this Dark stuff would be gone already."

"It is not my job," Gabriel said icily, "To police your world and take care of your problems. Kid's got to leave the house eventually."

"Are you implying that we're children?"

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at Moody and stepped slightly closer, the table blocking him from going any farther. The lights guttered suddenly, and several went out, causing many of the people there to look around nervously. Gabriel glared, and was almost impressed by the fact that Moody barely visibly backed down. His hand, however, did drift to his wand.

When Gabriel spoke it was quietly, but he knew he had the attention of everyone in the room - because way in the back of their minds right now, there would be a primal instinct screaming _danger_ at them.

"I am older than the very planet beneath your feet," he said, his gaze meeting Moody's. "I was present at the creation of this very universe. So yes, I think you're smaller than me. And how you're acting right now isn't doing much to convince me otherwise."

Gabriel turned and left the room, the door closing with a click as the lock automatically engaged. This had been ridiculous, and he'd learned less than a single letter from Michael or Hermione.

"So _you're_ the reason they went all quiet!"

Gabriel looked up.

Hermione, Michael, Ginny, Ron, and the twins were clustered around the railing on the landing a few floors up, staring down at him. Fred was hurriedly yanking up some sort of flesh-colored string.

"Yeah, it was me," he called up, grinning slightly. "How long have you been there?"

"We didn't see you go in," Michael answered. "Come on up, I don't want to have to shout!"

"Alright," Gabriel said, flying up and landing behind them in an instant as he said it. Ginny jumped and spun around, as he was right behind her.

"That wasn't Apparition," said George, glancing at Fred.

"I have no idea what that is," Gabriel said. "Thanks for the letters, by the way, they're the only reason I know anything at all about the order besides who works for it."

"They didn't tell you anything?" Ginny asked, sounding disappointed. "But they let you in..."

"Nah, Moody was more interested in quibbling over my species," Gabriel said, with a sideways look at the twins and Ginny.

"They know," Hermione admitted when she noticed him looking. "I hope you don't mind, but we heard a little bit of the order talking about it and I didn't want to lie to them."

"It's fine, cat was pretty much out of the bag already." Gabriel glanced over the railing as the door opened and order members flooded the hallway. "What is this place, anyway? Hell of an enchantment over it."

"Can you say that?" Fred was looking at Gabriel in interest. "Hell, I mean."

"Sure." Gabriel gave him a _seriously_ look. "Why wouldn't I be able to?"

"Well-" George gestured vaguely.

Gabriel snorted, but before he could reply someone shouted upstairs. "Hermione, is Harry up there? Dumbledore would like a word."

"Bugger. I was never here," Gabriel instructed Hermione, flying away before she could say anything and landing in the foyer of his house.

* * *

 

The Order of the Phoenix, as far as he could tell, was really a bit ridiculous. Maybe they did good work, but it didn’t seem to be worth putting up with the people in it. He'd stick to keeping his own safe.

The phone was ringing. Somebody who thought they were funny had made it have a shrill, cringe-inducing ringtone, so Gabriel answered it as quickly as possible while trying to remember who he'd given the number to. "Hello?"

"Harry!" It was Michael. "Oh, good, I was wondering if I'd remembered it right."

"Michael? Where are you that has a phone?"

"We've gone out to London for tonight." There were the sounds of cars and passers-by in the background, once Gabriel listened closer. "I'm using a phone box, actually, Ron keeps staring around at everything."

"First time in Muggle London?" Gabriel leaned back in his chair. "I wouldn't be surprised. How'd you get out of the house?"

"We had to sneak out, Fred and George helped." Gabriel could practically hear nir grin. "Ginny got one of the spare invisibility cloaks that are always hidden away, she was awesome-"

"Of course you'd say that, she's your girlfriend."

"Oi, don't be mean to Michael," someone said faintly (probably Ginny), as if they were standing far away from the phone. Michael, surprisingly, didn’t comment. Gabriel's attention was diverted from the conversation.

"One sec - _Jormungand, don't stand on that - hey! What's the rule about magic?_ " Jormungand had levitated himself to reach one of the cabinets.

"Who are you talking to?" Michael asked curiously, at the same time Jormungand replied, "No magic without super...without you watching." He remained three feet above the floor.

" _Exactly._ No magic." Gabriel was surprised he’d answered in English, but he wasn’t going to scold Jormungand for it.

" _But you're sitting right there_!" Jormungand protested.

" _That's not the same as supervising, bud. Back on the ground._ " Gabriel directed a pouting Jormungand back to the floor, cancelling the levitation spell.

A muffled conversation was coming through the phone.

"What's he doing?"

"I dunno, he's talking to someone but it doesn't sound like English-"

" _Who's in the phone?_ " Jormungand asked curiously, clambering onto Gabriel's lap.

"T _here's no one inside it, there are people on the other end. I explained phones, remember?_ " Gabriel picked the phone back up before Jormungand could decide that he wanted to talk too. "Sorry, got distracted."

"That wasn't English!" Hermione had obviously grabbed the phone, given how close she sounded.

"No, it wasn't," Gabriel agreed. "So what are you doing in London?" There was a bit of a scuffle on the other end before someone answered, Ginny this time.

"I'd like to go to a movie place," she informed Gabriel, "or whatever it's called. Where they have movies. I want to see what Muggles can do with this kind of thing."

"I hear Into Darkness is good," said Gabriel, only slightly occupied making sure Jormungand didn't wriggle off his lap and fall onto the floor. "But it's a sequel, don't know if you'd be interested."

"A sequel?" Ginny's voice faded out slightly. "He says we should go see something called 'into darkness'."

"Oh, that's a good one, actually."

Something crashed distantly and Gabriel nearly dropped the phone swinging around to see what had happened.

"Jor,” he said suspiciously, “ _what were your brothers doing?_ "

"What was that?" Ginny asked at the same time.

" _Magic,_ " Jormungand answered unrepentantly, reaching up for the phone. " _I want to talk._ "

Gabriel swallowed a swear and spoke quickly into the phone. "Listen, I've got to go head off a crisis, call back later and tell me what you thought." He hung up hurriedly and deposited Jormungand on the floor. " _Sorry, kid, gotta go see what mess your brothers have gotten into._ "

* * *

 

"Slepnir! Fenris! Er - _Vali?"_

" _Don't worry!_ "

"This isn't what it looks like." Vali raised his hands in a pantomime of surrender.

Gabriel crossed his arms. "It _looks_ like you turned the sofa into a pile of sand."

"Okay, it's exactly what it looks like."

" _We're building a castle!_ " Slepnir beamed at him.

" _In the living room?_ "

" _Yes._ "

Gabriel hesitated. The poor sofa didn’t deserve it, especially not with the scorch marks it had mysteriously acquired while Gabriel was gone, but the scene was too cute. ". _..You have two hours. Then I'm turning it back._ "

" _You too! Help me with the castle._ " Slepnir looked at him pleadingly.

" _Alright, alright. I'll help._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a *whole* lot of plot, but I hope you can appreciate it anyways. Comment, please!


	37. Diagon Alley and Back to Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what? I'm awesome, and my Christmas present to you guys is a super-special Christmas Eve chapter a day early. I would make it an actual Christmas Day chapter, but that would be pointless because Christmas is a Friday and therefore my usual update day.
> 
> Edging a liiiiiil bit into Supernatural matters now...I can't promise that it'll be soon, but there will be more on that front. Give it...ten chapters? Ish?

In hindsight, he should maybe not have encouraged them; Fenris and Slepnir got into a fight over where the towers should go and whether they needed water, and Gabriel had to separate them before things got violent. Slepnir sulked in the kitchen while Gabriel was forced to escort a sullenly furious Fenris upstairs. He wasn’t sure they could be trusted to be in the same room.

“Is he usually that angry?” Vali asked, when Gabriel paused at the top of the stairs. Gabriel nearly jumped - he hadn’t noticed Vali follow him up. But Vali was only halfway up the stairs, looking up at him with a curiosity that was trying hard to be disinterest.

“Which one?” Gabriel asked dryly.

“Fenris. He’s got a hell of a temper.”

“Has this happened before?” Gabriel sighed when Vali nodded. “No. He used to be a sweet kid. Not saying he isn’t still, but I haven’t seen him get that mad about something so little before.” Toddler behavior aside, Fenris hadn’t been the type of child to try and hit someone over differences in architectural opinions.

“Guess they changed more than they seemed to,” Vali said. 

“Yeah,” Gabriel muttered. Memories or no, none of the three boys were quite the same as they had been. 

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” Gabriel grimaced faintly. He had no plan for this. “The best I can, I guess.”

Vali looked at him for what felt like a long (and judgemental) time.

“If you don’t like me, Vali, you can say so,” Gabriel said eventually, and Vali startled a little. “I’m not gonna hold it against you.” He wasn’t blind; Vali had always been more reserved and seemingly suspicious than his twin.

“I don’t  _ dislike  _ you,” Vali said. “How can I? I barely know you.”

Gabriel’s heart twisted painfully.

“Right,” he said. “I forgot. Sure.” He turned around and left before Vali could say anything else.

* * *

 

Come the beginning of August, Gabriel was not in the best of moods.

"Balthazar."

"What do you want now?"

"I need to talk to you for a moment."

Balthazar heaved an exaggerated sigh and stood up, obligingly moving into the next room with Gabriel. "What? I was busy." 

"Sure you were." Gabriel didn't even bother to roll his eyes. He closed the kitchen door with a snap of his fingers before speaking. "Have you been listening to angel radio?"

Balthazar sobered. "A bit. Why?"

"The you've heard the news already."

"I haven't been listening  _ recently.  _ What happened now?"

Gabriel let out a long breath. "It's been almost talked over - no one seems to be very concerned with it at the moment - but Abaddon's been rumored to be moving around again."

"Abaddon?" Balthazar asked incredulously. "The  _ Knight of Hell? _ I thought they were all dead."

"I did, too. I've no idea how she went under the radar for so long, or why, but she's back."

"And  _ no one _ seems worried?"

"They seem to be a bit more occupied with Bartholomew and Malachi's factions - it's practically outright warfare by now," Gabriel retorted.

"I  _ know  _ that. Isn't anyone doing anything about Abaddon? A Knight's something to worry about, now that they haven't got any archangels around, and locked out of Heaven on top of that."

"I didn't finish, Balthazar."

"Wonderful, more bad news." Balthazar did roll his eyes, leaning against the doorframe.

"You know how you told me Crowley set himself up on the throne of Hell after Lucy got tossed back in the cage?"

Balthazar's body language changed immediately, straightening and stiffening. "Oh, hell."

"Yeah, exactly." Gabriel folded his arms. "Abaddon apparently didn't react well to the news that the former King of the Crossroads was ruling Hell."

"So you're telling me-" Balthazar raised one hand. "That on top of every one of our siblings being marooned on Earth, sans wings, and rife with internal fighting,  _ Hell  _ is most likely about to have their own civil war?"

"That's about the shape of things."

Balthazar closed his eyes. "I need a drink. What about Bartholomew and Malachi?"

"Far as I can tell, they're not going to get along anytime soon. Never did, really. There are other groups, and some neutrals, but I don't think they're going to last long. Bartholomew's determined to stay in charge. He always liked positions of power." And Gabriel had never counted him among his favorites.

"And what about Castiel?"

"Christ, Balthazar, if you're so curious then listen in yourself!" Gabriel snapped. "I've got no idea what happened to Castiel, because he's not on angel radio, probably because everyone who  _ is _ wants to kill him!"

"Alright!" Balthazar raised his hands slightly. "You're the one who initiated this conversation!"

"To talk about Abaddon. Not Castiel or any of our other siblings." Gabriel didn’t want to think about what kind of situation Castiel might be in, or why else he might not be talking.

"Fine, then, let's stop talking. Where'd you hide the alcohol?"

"Who says I hid it?" Gabriel had actually thrown it all out, if vanishing the lot counted as throwing it out. He didn’t need any of the kids getting into that stash.

Balthazar groaned and pressed the heels of his palms against his forehead. "Bloody brilliant."

* * *

  _“ _I’_ m bored,_” Jormungand said.

Gabriel looked down at the child sprawled across his lap. “In English?”

“English is stupid,” Jormungand replied, nearly accentless. Gabriel felt his mouth twitch into a grin.

_ “ _S_ mart boy. _ ”

_ “ _N_ o. _ ”

_ “ _S_ mart girl, then, _ ” Gabriel said without missing a beat. That was one thing that hadn’t changed, at least. Jormungand switched between boy and girl often, sometimes from day to day, sometimes not for a year or more. Gabriel smoothed her hair away from her face. _“_ _ Can you even see? _ ”

_ “ _It’_ s fine, _ ” Jormungand said, pushing his hand away. _“_ _ I want to braid it back. ” _

_ “ _Brai_ d it, huh? _ ” Gabriel considered her tight curls. _“_ __I_ could try. _ ” Normally her mother was the one to take care of this, given how little experience Gabriel had with hair that wasn’t straight. Gabriel ruthlessly pushed the thought aside.

Jormungand made a face. _“_ _ I don’t know... ” _

_ “ _I can look up how to do it now_ , you know. _ ”

Jormungand frowned. _“_ __Lo_ ok up? _ ”

Gabriel laughed. _“_ _Nobody told you about the internet yet? C’mon, I’ll show you and we’ll find a cool way to do your hair so you can see where you’re going.”_

_ “ _I can see_ , _ ” Jormungand said, but she followed him upstairs anyway.

* * *

 

An owl bearing a Hogwarts letter came not much later in the month. The letter was immediately snatched away and hidden by Fenris, who seemed to think that if Gabriel couldn't find the letter, he wouldn't leave.

It took Gabriel twenty minutes to find him, and the rest of the hour to explain very thoroughly why he had to leave. Fenris insisted on being carried around the rest of the afternoon in exchange for giving back the letter.

Sigyn, Vali, and Narvi were still perfectly willing to stay and look after the three boys, which was one worry off of Gabriel's mind. The letter had included an offer to come by order headquarters again, but Gabriel tossed that straight into the fireplace, still pissed that Dumbledore had leaked the news to so many people. He was trying to stay undercover, damnit. What was the point of so many random people knowing who he was?

Slepnir, Jormungand, and Fenris insisted on coming to Diagon Alley with him, and in the process of trying to convince him that they should be allowed somewhere other than the house and nearby park got Narvi interested too. It turned into a question fest that ended with Gabriel throwing his hands up and declaring that they  _ all  _ might as well come, then.

That backfired when Narvi agreed, and Vali decided to come along, and even Sigyn was curious enough to want to accompany them.

It took ages to get everything sorted (protection, and a disguise for Gabriel) so that they could leave for the alley. Gabriel flew them all straight into the pub with a fake  _ crack  _ to disguise it as Apparition, not wanting to waste time on public transportation. Barely anyone in the pub took notice, though the kids looked around with interest.

Gabriel had disguised himself as a slightly younger version of his old vessel, American accent and all. Narvi had thought it was funny enough that he’d disguised himself too, albeit only with blond hair and a thinner face. The boys went as themselves, resistant to the idea of being enchanted even the tiniest bit, which Gabriel did not blame them for, nor had he been the one to suggest it.

"Alright," said Gabriel, hosting Fenris up on his hip. "I can take care of books and such, you guys can just explore wherever. But stay out of Knockturn, you two."

"What, us?" Narvi pulled a fake innocent expression, while Vali looked vaguely uncomfortable. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Don't get into any trouble," Sigyn admonished them, posing as their collective mother (if anyone asked), since no one would believe that Gabriel was their father, even when he didn’t look like Harry Potter. "I'm not doing any damage control today."

" _ Let's go, _ " Slepnir insisted, tugging on Gabriel's free hand. " _ I wanna see the alley. _ "

"Alright, alright. I've already gotten money from the bank, so we can head right out." Taking the whole group of them into a bank run by goblins was asking for a disaster.

Half an hour was wasted in the pet shop (with Gabriel constantly having to return animals to their cages) before Gabriel could get anything done. Luckily, none of the three seemed inclined to wander too far away from Gabriel. The foreign location and language, coupled with the numerous strangers, at least meant that Gabriel didn’t have to go chasing after anybody.

The bookstore being the only exception.

_ " _W_ hat's that? _ " Slepnir asked. He was sitting on the floor next to the shelf Gabriel was perusing, and was looking up at the book Gabriel was examining curiously.

_ " That's a rune book, it's for a class at school. " _

_ " Why are you buying it? You already know runes. " _

_ " Because I take the class. That's why we're here, remember? I have to buy stuff for school. " _

_ " _Oka_ y. _ ” Slepnir was quiet for a moment. _“_ __But w_ hy aren't you buying the other one? _ " He pointed to a thick volume with an embossed leather spine.

_ " Because I'm supposed to get this one. If I get the other one I'll have the wrong book. " _

_ " But that one is pretty. " _

_ " _It is._ Hey - Jor, don't wander off! _ " Jormungand was wandering perilously close to the end of the aisle.

_" But that area's boring."_

_ "Do you want to get lost? " _

_ " _..._ No. _ " Jormungand tugged on the end of one braid, casting his eyes over the shelf in front of him.

_ " Stay over here. " _

_ " But I like it over here. They have stories. " _

Gabriel resisted the urge to heave a sigh. They’d had this conversation already. _"_ _ We have wizard stories at home. Come back over here. " _

_ " I don’t want to. " _

_ " Jor..." _

* * *

 

Fortescue's was an immediate hit, since none of them had ever had ice cream before. All of them, including Gabriel, were distracted by the treat, and thus taken completely by surprise when a brunette woman slid into the only unoccupied seat.

"Hel!" Gabriel said in surprise. She looked very different, with a glamour over the side of her face again to make it look alive. “When did you get here?” Last she’d told him, she was wandering the human world to see what kind of things she’d missed, trapped in her realm.

"Did you think I would pass up the opportunity?" Hel smiled. "I haven't seen you in ages, and I have had my fill of traveling for now."

Fenris scrambled over into her lap. " _ You're back! _ "

_ " _A_ nd glad to see you again _ ," Hel replied. " What is this place, anyway? "

"It's an ice cream parlor." Gabriel gestured to his nearly-empty dish of chocolate. "It's a dessert. Don’t know if you’ve run into it before?"

"I see. I don’t think I have."

Jormungand tugged on Hel's sleeve. _"_ __You_ 're too big, _ " he told her matter-of-factly. _"_ __Yo_ u're supposed to be the baby. _ " Hel looked like she wasn't sure whether or not to laugh. 

_ " _It's be_ cause of the bad magic, _ " Gabriel said after a moment, in lieu of any other explanation. He’d been wondering when someone was going to ask about that. _"_ __You_ didn't get any older, but Hel did because she wasn't enchanted. _ " Hel shot him a look at the lie, but didn't protest it.

_ " _Doe_ s that mean I'm the littlest now? _ " Fenris asked, disappointed.

_ " _N_ o, you're still older than Hel. _ " Gabriel’s reassurance made him grin widely.

_ " _Do_ n't get too proud, Fenris, you're still smaller _ ," Hel reminded Fenris, looping her arms around him. "So where are you off to next?"

"Oh, there's just various little things to get next. I got the books already, so there's not that much left."

"This is a very interesting district."

"Really? I was thinking more 'crazy'." Gabriel grinned. “Almost as nice as Hogwarts.”

“And here I was about to say that I thought it was just your style.”

* * *

 

Sigyn and the twins, who met them later once the twins were done exploring, were as surprised as Gabriel by Hel’s presence. Gabriel caught the barest trace of alarm in Sigyn’s expression when she saw Hel. She hid it well. He didn’t comment on it. 

Narvi greeted her politely enough, and Vali made a pointed comment about not knowing they had a full-time sister, but they both were quieter than normal. Slepnir and Fenris, normally the loud ones, seemed to pick up on the mood and barely yelled at all. 

Gabriel hadn’t expected Vali and Narvi to not react to Hel at all, but honestly, he'd forgotten that none of them had had a chance to meet previously. Not that he knew of, anyway.

It wasn't a subject Gabriel liked to linger on.

Hel went back to the house with them, but didn’t stay long; she still had a whole realm to take care of, even if she could leave it now. Gabriel didn’t begrudge her her duties, but her older brothers (save maybe the twins) did.

“Why does she leave?” Slepnir dramatically slumped over so his chin just barely cleared the arm of Gabriel’s chair.

“Good English,” Gabriel said. _“_ __Do y_ ou mean Hel? _ ”

“Yes.”

_ “ _S_ he’s busy, you know that. _ ” 

_ “ _W_ ith what? _ ” 

Gabriel hesitated, and then sat up. He might as well broach the topic sooner or later. “ _ Your sister is different. _ ”

_ “ _Di_ fferent how? _ ”

_ “ _Did y_ ou notice her glamour? _ ” Slepnir’s surprise told him he had not.

_ “ _A g_ lamour? Why? _ ” Slepnir’s eyes widened. _“_ _ Does she have scars? ” _

_ “ _No, n_ o scars. _ ” Gabriel gestured for Slepnir to come closer. Slepnir obligingly scrambled up onto the armrest of the recliner, which meant he was actually looking down at Gabriel. _“_ _ Hel had...some of her own trouble, like with you guys. ” _

_ “ _But you_ said- _ ” Slepnir looked hurt.

_ “ I know. It was easier than explaining everything when we were in public. ”  _

_ “ _And_ she was so little then! _ ”

“Yes, well... _ your safety wasn’t their concern. _ ” Gabriel plunged ahead. _“_ _ Slepnir, do you remember the stories about how people can enter the afterlife? ” _

_ “ _Y_ es. _ ” Slepnir looked puzzled, now, as if not sure how that had to do with his sister. 

_ “ And people can put other people in there without killing them, if they’re smart enough. ” _

_ “ _O_ kay, _ ” Slepnir said. _“_ __Lik_ e Odin? _ ”

Gabriel pressed his mouth into a thin line. _“_ __Ye_ s, _ ” he said tersely, _“_ _ like Odin. ” _

_ “ _Did you_ fight with him again? _ ” Slepnir asked immediately. Gabriel looked at him, the oldest of his sons and the first to be raised in Asgard alongside all the gods Gabriel used to be friends with, and wondered how much to tell him.

_ “ _Y_ es, _ ” he said quietly, _“_ __ve_ ry badly, over what he did to you. _ ”

It took less than a second for Slepnir to get wide-eyed and dead silent. Gabriel winced internally at the naked hurt and betrayal on his face. 

_ “ _W_ hy? _ ” Slepnir asked. 

_ “ _I_ don’t know. _ ” Gabriel had ideas, but he  _ didn’t know.  _ He  _ wished  _ there were some way he could have known, could have stopped it. _“_ _ He...did a lot of bad things for his own reasons. He’s always been an a- a terrible person. ” _

_ “ _And he did s_ omething to Hel? _ ” Slepnir made connections fast once he had all the information. _“_ _ He put her in his afterlife? ” He sounded horrified. _

_ “ _Not_ his, _ ” Gabriel said quietly. There was no way for a gentler voice to soften the weight of the knowledge he was about to share, but he could try. _“_ _ There’s Valhalla, and Folkvangr, and a third one, and that third one is where Hel has been. She couldn’t leave for a very long time. ” _

Slepnir looked a little ashen. Gabriel would’ve preferred to stop there, but there were more questions to be asked.

_ “ _Th_ at’s not good, is it, _ ” Slepnir said quietly. _“_ _ It did something to her? ” _

_ “ Yes, it did. ” _

_ “ But she’s not dead. ” _

Gabriel opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it, stricken. Slepnir’s face crumpled.

_ “ _Com_ e here, _ ” Gabriel sighed, extending his arms. Slepnir slid down into his lap and curled into him.

_ “ _But she_ was here, _ ” Slepnir said into Gabriel’s shoulder. Gabriel held him close, rubbing his shoulder. _“_ _ If she was - was- ” _

_ “ _Magic makes thi_ ngs complicated, _ ” Gabriel said softly. _“_ __She i_ sn’t, not all the way, but...enough of her is that she didn’t want to let you see it. _ ”

Slepnir sniffed. _“_ __I hate_ this, _ ” he said miserably. _“_ _ Everything’s changed and I can’t remember it, and Hel’s all old and even you’re different- ” _

_ “ _That’s temp_ orary, _ ” Gabriel assured him quickly, squeezing Slepnir’s shoulder reassuringly. _“_ __Two m_ ore years, at most. _ ” Or possibly three, but Gabriel wasn’t going to change that number so quickly after saying it. 

_ “ _I s_ till don’t like it! _ ” Slepnir sounded dangerously close to tears.

_ “ _Hey_ , sshhh. _ ” Gabriel smoothed a hand over Slepnir’s hair. _“_ _ We’re all okay, Slepnir. It might be different but we’re all together again, right? ” _

_ “ _It’s not the_ same! _ ” Slepnir jerked back suddenly to look at him. _“_ _ Couldn’t you do something? You have magic, you could help Hel- ” _

_ “ _I tried a long_ time ago, Slepnir, _ ” Gabriel said. God, he’d tried. _“_ _ It’s just...been too long. ” _

_ “ _O_ h. _ ” Slepnir seemed to crumple, moving in slow-motion to slump against Gabriel again. Gabriel wrapped his arms around him, pressing his cheek against Slepnir’s head. 

_ “ _It’_ s not too bad, _ ” Gabriel said, trying to be reassuring. _“_ _ She can still visit us and talk to you and be your sister. The only thing stopping her is that she has a whole realm to be in charge of, now. ”  _

_ “ _I don’t c_ are, _ ” Slepnir said. Gabriel expected him to continue, but he stayed morosely silent. 

_ “ _Will yo_ u be okay? _ ” Gabriel asked. Slepnir shrugged listlessly. _“_ _ Come on, use your words. ” _

_ “ _I_ guess. _ ” Slepnir sniffed again. _“_ _ It’s not fair. She was so little, and I couldn’t- ” _

_ “ _No. Stop right t_ here. _ ” Gabriel pulled on Slepnir’s shoulders until he could look him in the eye. _“_ _ It’s not your fault, Slepnir. Nobody was expecting you to do anything. Okay? You’re not the dad, I am. ” _

_ “ _Ok_ ay, _ ” Slepnir muttered. He rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm and didn’t meet Gabriel’s gaze. 

_ “ I h ave an idea, _ _”_ Gabriel said, squeezing his shoulders again. _“_ _ How about you pick a movie for us to watch, and we have a good snack or something, and we don’t do anything else for the rest of the day? ” _

_“... Okay.”   
_

* * *

 

Gabriel, of course, couldn’t tell Slepnir and nobody else, but it took him longer than he’d have liked to admit to force himself to have the same conversations with Jormungand and Fenris. None of the tree of them took it well, and movies and food weren’t a foolproof consolation method. Gabriel was tempted to call Hel to have  _ her  _ come reassure them.

He didn’t. He didn’t want to put that all on her; anyway, he wasn’t sure if the three kids seeing her as she really was would actually help or not.

Gabriel did the best he could, and if the boys were quieter than normal and a little twitchier than normal, a little more inclined to some of their oddities, he didn’t comment on it. 

The outing at Digaon Alley seemed like a distant memory, but it was still recent enough that the boys and Jormungand insisted on accompanying him to King’s Cross when the first of September started looming.

"We don't even  _ have  _ a car," Gabriel protested.

"You can fly us," Narvi retorted. "Honestly, what do you have against it? You can just go in disguise again and turn back on the train."

In the end, Gabriel was outvoted five to one (Sigyn had abstained by way of leaving the room, and Hel wasn’t there) and they all found themselves in the middle of platform nine and three quarters at ten-thirty on September first.

The platform was already crowded, but Gabriel had found a relatively secluded spot to land, and another artificial  _ crack  _ had people completely unsurprised as the group stepped out from behind a pillar.

Gabriel knelt down so that he was level with Fenris. " _ No sneaking onto the train, okay? I promise I'm not leaving for good. _ "

Fenris nodded, but didn't let go of Gabriel's pant leg.

_ " _Yo_ u guys all be good, you hear? _ " Gabriel gave them what he hoped was a parentally stern look. _"_ __I don't_ want any letters saying you've turned the  _ sofa _ into a flock of  _ flamingos _ or anything like that. _ " He at least got a giggle from Jormungand and Slepnir, but Fenris still looked on the verge of tears. _"_ _ No crying, I'm gonna be back by December, remember? " _

_ " _Y_ es _ ," Fenris mumbled.

_ " _You_ want a hug? _ " He got another nod in response. Gabriel pulled Fenris in, feeling him latch on like an octopus. With only four, very non-sticky arms.

_ " _Co_ me on, it'll be alright. _ " Narvi had to pry Fenris away once Gabriel let go. _"_ __Yo_ u're going to make dad late. _ "

Fenris mumbled something that sounded distinctly like 'good'. Gabriel grinned and looked down at Jormungand.

_ " _You_ help Slepnir look after him, okay? But don't forget to have fun. Fun is vital. _ "

Jormungand nodded reluctantly. _"_ __Do_ you have to go again? _ "

_ " _Ye_ ah, I do. If I didn't, I wouldn't be going. Trust me on that. _ "

A whistle blew and Gabriel glanced at the train. Parents up and down the platform were hustling their kids onto it, waving goodbye and blowing kisses. 

_ " _I'll s_ ee you all in December, promise! _ " Gabriel pulled Jormungand in for a quick hug and then ran to leap onto the nearest carriage. He had his trunk with him, magically shrunk and stuffed into his pocket. Gabriel leaned back out of the small stairway, waving goodbye as the train gained steam and began moving out of King's Cross. All four (except for Fenris) waved back until they grew too small to be seen, and Gabriel eventually had to duck farther inside the carriage before the momentum of the train pulled him out the door.

Gabriel checked and realized that he was several carriages down from where he could sense Michael and Ginny sitting; Hermione was strangely absent. It was easy to frost over the windows and fly inside, causing both of them to jump violently.

"Who the hell are you?" Michael demanded. Gabriel glanced down at himself. Right. He was still disguised as his old vessel.

"Sorry about that, I forgot," he replied easily, British accent returning as his hair bled back to black and his skin darkened back to its usual color. He sat down casually across from Michael; the seat next to nem had been taken by Ginny. Michael stared at him. Actually, they were both staring.

"Since when are you a metamorphmagus?" Ginny asked.

"I have absolutely no idea what that is but I'll assume you're referring to the shapeshifting,” Gabriel said cheerfully. “And I've always been able to do it. Just because I haven't demonstrated something doesn't mean I can't."

"So," Michael said after a pause. "How was your summer?"

"Good enough. Your trip to London go well?"

"Merlin, you should have seen the fit Mum threw when we got back," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "You'd think we'd waltzed into the Ministry of Magic and tried to rob the Department of Mysteries."

"She woke up the painting of Sirius' mum and then  _ all  _ the paintings started screaming," Michael added with a snort. "It took ages to get quiet again. If I ever have to stay there again it'll be too soon."

"You know, I never found out what that house was."

"It's Sirius' old house, apparently," Ginny explained."He volunteered to let Dumbledore use it for headquarters over the summer."

"It's horrible," Michael added. "The place hasn't been cleaned in ages because the only house-elf still alive is completely insane."

"Hm." Gabriel leaned back in his seat. About has interesting as he’d assumed, then. "So where's Hermione?"

"She's prefect, got the letter in the mail." Michael replied. "She and Ron are up in the prefect's carriage, getting orders or whatever."

"Ron's a prefect too?"

"Believe me, we were all surprised." Ginny said. "So was he, to be honest, I don't think anyone was expecting that. Fred and George were horrified, of course."

"This is their last year, isn't it?"

"Yeah, they keep getting all serious now...they wanted to set up a joke shop, I think, but there's not really enough money." Ginny shrugged. "I think mum's glad they can't, to be honest, she never really approved of the whole joke shop thing."

"Joke shop, huh?" Sounded interesting. Gabriel would have to ask the twins about that. "So did you go see the movie I recommended?"

Both Michael and Ginny started talking enthusiastically at the same time; grinning, Gabriel sat back to listen.

* * *

 

Hogwarts was the same as ever, barring one very obvious change - there was an ugly-looking woman dressed in Pepto-Bismol pink sitting at the head table.

"Please tell me that's not our new Defense teacher," Gabriel groaned under his breath. He felt like the pink was significant somehow; maybe she was a character he’d been told about and then forgotten.

"Let's hope not," Michael muttered back as they sat down at the Ravenclaw table. "What the hell is she wearing?"

Gabriel shrugs and glanced around. Several people had been staring at him like he was a zoo exhibit, but looked away hurriedly as soon as they noticed he was looking back

"There a reason I'm being treated like I have the plague?" Gabriel asked. Michael stiffened slightly, glancing over at Gabriel. 

"You haven't been reading the Prophet, have you?" Michael asked warily.

"Dumbledore mentioned that I was being discredited."

"Oh." Ne relaxed again. "Well, it's gone a little farther than that - basically, every time someone has got a sort of strange story, or is in an accident, they'll slip in a little joke - trying to get people to think that you can't be trusted, since you're saying You-Kno-"

"Oh come on, Michael, you can say his name."

"...Since you're saying he's back and Fudge doesn't want anyone to believe that."

"I knew he was a disgrace to the name," Gabriel muttered. "Time for a new minister, d'you think?"

"Wha - you're serious?"

"Sure"

"Why?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Because I feel like it. And I can if I want to. And I don't like him."

Michael muttered something to nemself and stared at nir goblet as if willing it to fill. "I've known for years and I still get surprised by you."

"That will most likely never stop happening."

The tables filled themselves with food as soon as the Sorting ended, and students eagerly fell to talking and eating as usual. Luna, who Gabriel remembered clearly from last year, had managed to find a seat directly opposite them.

"Your wings look much better," she said cheerfully to Gabriel.

"They are," he agreed. "I've managed to solve the problem which made them so raggedy."

Michael's eyes were flicking between them. "I think I'm missing something. Since when does Luna know?"

"I've always known," Luna said dreamily. "His wings are quite big, after all, it was easy to see them."

Michael gaped at her. "You can see-"

"So how was your summer?" Gabriel asked nonchalantly, elbowing Michael in the side to get nem to be quiet. There was no need to announce it to the entire hall.

"It was very good. Daddy and I went to Sweden to try and find a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, but we didn't have any luck."

"...Sounds interesting,” Gabriel said, pretending he knew what a Crumple-Horned Snorkack was. “I can't say I've heard of it."

"Not many people have." Luna was still smiling faintly. "Most of them believe that I just make things up. Like the Nargles."

"The what?" Gabriel raised his eyebrows.

"They fly in people's brains and make their thoughts all fuzzy."

Before Gabriel could reply, Dumbledore stood up to begin his usual speech. To Gabriel's irritation, the pink woman was their new teacher; Hagrid was also missing for some reason, but Gabriel didn't pay much attention to that, as he didn't take the class and only vaguely knew the man.

Dumbledore suddenly broke off midsentence. At first people exchanged questioning looks, wondering why he'd stopped, but the reason became apparent when the pink woman got to her feet, clearing her throat again, obviously about to make a speech.

And it was probably the most boring speech Gabriel had ever heard. Even compared to  _ Zachariah,  _ she was boring. The majority of the students seemed to agree, putting their heads together in private conversations or staring up at the woman with glazed-over eyes.

If that was what her classes were going to be like, Gabriel doubted he'd be attending.

She eventually sat back down, to Gabriel’s relief and only Dumbledore and a smattering of students trying to live up to their prefect badges clapped.

"Defense is going to be a nightmare this year," Michael muttered. "Couldn't you do something about her?"

"If I felt like it." If her speech set the tone for the whole year, he probably would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don't even want to know what I have planned for Umbridge :)
> 
> Merry Christmas Eve, all! Sit tight for tomorrow and then afterwards, enjoy your Christmas reverse Lent, because everyone knows Santa only starts keeping track again in the new year, so there's over a week where none of your actions count against you.
> 
> Don't do anything I wouldn't do with this information.


	38. Meetings and Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think things will be getting a little more serious, and most likely stray off the canon path more than they have in the past! I know several people have complained about that, but rest assured I'm not changing it because of said disgruntled reviewers.
> 
> Umbridge certainly won't last as long. I was going to try and bring Ron back into it, since he wasn't really involved in the fourth year shenanigans, and I like his character. But if I can't fit him in with Gabriel, then he probably won't make a reappearance.
> 
> Also, more Luna! Because she's awesome and I really wanted to have more of her last year.

Once the feast was over, things did not go nearly as well as they had up to that point. Everyone seemed to be treating Gabriel like he was some sort of social pariah, and Cedric seemed to be receiving the same treatment from everyone save the other Hufflepuffs.

The same grace was not extended to Gabriel from the Ravenclaws, however. Gabriel had barely closed his trunk before a voice from behind him demanded "Well, is it true?"

He turned around, only to find the three boys he shared a dorm with all staring at him expectantly. Anthony Goldstein was in front of both of them, arms folded and feet planted solidly.

"You might have to be a little more specific," Gabriel said dryly, internally raising an eyebrow at the defensive posture. "I'm not a mind reader." A blatant lie, but it wasn't like they knew.

"About You-Know-Who," Anthony said. He was looking at Gabriel slightly disdainfully, which almost made Gabriel laugh out loud. "And how Dumbledore's claiming you and Cedric saw him return."

"I don't claim anything," Gabriel retorted. "But if you want to believe whatever shit the newspaper is shelling out, by all means, go ahead."

This seemed to give the other two pause, but Anthony kept right on going. "Look," he said angrily. "I don't get what you're getting out of this, Harry. You're just trying to cause trouble."

"Well, let's go back for a minute," Gabriel said lightly, meeting Anthony's glare evenly. "What would I get out of it?"

"Excuse me?" Anthony obviously hadn't expected his own words to be turned against him - but Gabriel hadn't been known as Loki Silvertongue for nothing.

"What point could there possibly be to lying like this? Like you said, there's no reason. Which means either a, I'm crazy, or b, I'm right." Gabriel shrugged. "Your choice, but I think we both know which one is more likely."

"More - you think someone coming back from the dead is more likely?" Anthony sputtered. He spun around to face Kevin something and the other boy who Gabriel thought might have been named Evan. "Don't tell me you believe this too!"

"I don't," Kevin said quickly. "But - he's got a point, doesn't he? What reason would he have to say something like that? And why would Cedric back him up?"

_ "Thank _ you," Gabriel said, whirling around to point at Kevin. "At least  _ someone's  _ got sense."

Anthony was shaking his head, staring at both of them with wide eyes. "You're both crazy," he said finally. "And You-Know-Who-"

"Oh, grow up and use his name," Gabriel snapped. "He's not going to magically appear in the dorm if you say  _ Voldemort."  _ All three of them flinched violently at the name. "Oh, come on!"

"Look," Anthony said determinedly. "I don't believe you, okay?"

"What a surprise."

" _ You-Know-Who,"  _ Anthony took a breath. "Is not back. I don't know how you convinced Cedric to believe you, much less Dumbledore, but there's no way someone can come back from the dead."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Voldemort was the darkest wizard this society had seen this side of the last big war. What made you think he was really dead?"

With his roommates gaping at him, Gabriel climbed into bed and yanked the curtains shut. Idiots, the lot of them. Idiots and cowards to afraid to face the truth - especially Fudge. He'd really have to do something about the Minister if he wanted to have a decent year.

* * *

 

It took exactly three minutes of Umbridge's class for Gabriel to leave a double in his place (he almost felt bad for inflicting her teaching on the construct) and get the hell out of Dodge.

"Basic principles my ass," Gabriel muttered as he walked down the staircase leading to Muriel's room. "Fudge is up to something, why else give us a teacher who refuses to teach? There's no way Dumbledore hired her on his own."

Which led to the question: why  _ was _ she here?

Gabriel spent the entire period in Muriel's room, amusing himself, and when he came up later to head for lunch he was confronted by Cedric outside the great hall.

"Can I talk to you?" Cedric asked.

"Sure." Gabriel glanced around at the mostly-empty entrance hall. "What?"

"You haven't..." Cedric trailed off. "Have you run into anyone asking about...you know..."

"Last summer and the so-called outrageous claim about Voldemort?" Cedric flinched. "Oh, grow up. Yes, I have, a couple of my roommates asked about it." Well, if 'asked' meant 'demanded answers'. "Why?"

"I was just wondering." Cedric grinned slightly. "Because, you know, I thought you might have some problems - I mean, most of the Hufflepuffs believe me, but you're in Ravenclaw, so-"

"House of the Loyal and all that, I suppose." Gabriel interrupted. "I'm not being attacked or anything, though, the worst that's happened all day is our wonderful defense professor."

"Is she really that bad?" Cedric asked. "I haven't got her till Wednesday."

"As long as you're willing to do nothing but read the world's shittiest book for the entire class, she's fine." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "If you're not? Yes, she is." Gabriel moved to go into the hall, knowing that the double wasn't there.

"Er...I'll keep that in mind. And listen-" Cedric put his hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "If anyone gives you trouble, Hufflepuff will be behind you, alright?"

Gabriel glanced up at Cedric, surprised at the offer. The kid really was too nice to exist. "...Right. Thanks."

"No problem."

* * *

 

Gabriel was not the only one being sought out, though. Draco's feet nearly left the ground when he realized that Gabriel was standing behind him.

"Merlin!"

"Not quite, Draco."

Draco didn't turn around to look at Gabriel. The only reason he'd noticed was because the archangel had positioned himself so that he was right next to Draco's reflection in the bathroom mirror - luckily, no one else was feeling the call of nature at the moment.

"What are you doing here?"

"I think we both know that."

"No, I don't," said Draco, a little more angrily. "And I'd prefer a  _ warning  _ before you pop up behind me. How did you get in here, anyway? The door was locked."

Like that would pose any challenge to Gabriel. "Don't change the subject."

"What do you want, then?"

"Whose side are you on?"

It was a far more complicated question than five words really deserved to be. Draco paused, perfectly still bending over the sink, and then slowly turned around.

"Who wants to know?" He asked.

"Me," Gabriel replied. "We both know your daddy was under one of those hoods in the graveyard, so I'm wondering if I need to watch out for you following in his footsteps."

"...And why do you care?" Draco sneered after a moment. "Trying to be a hero, saving the poor boy from the dark side?"

"I'm trying to ask which choice you're making." Gabriel spread his arms. "Unless you  _ want  _ to be a death eater. In which case, go ahead. It'll be me you're fighting against."

"I don't have a choice," Draco spat. "So I don't need your pity."

"You do have a choice."

"My father-"

"Screw him. What do you want?"

Draco stared at Gabriel for a minute or two. "Why are you so insistent?" He finally asked, not answering the question. "Why do you care if I have a choice?"

Gabriel let out a breath. "Free will," he muttered, more to himself than to Draco. "That's where this whole problem started, didn't it? Your answer," he said, raising his voice, "Is that everyone gets a choice."

The Winchesters had fought hard for that and Gabriel might not like them, but he did agree that they had a point. Also it would have pissed of Michael to no end.

"Some people don't."

"Well, they should have one."

"It's not that easy!" Draco shouted suddenly. "You make it sound like I can just say I don't want to-"

"Can't you?"

"Not to my father."

Well.

Gabriel could certainly sympathize with that.

"Distant, unforgiving type, huh?" Gabriel said, a little quieter.

"He'd kick me out. Or worse."

"So you can go stay with Dumbledore's little group or whatever. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to hear you've stayed away from the dark side."

"Wha - who says I have?" Draco demanded.

Gabriel arched one eyebrow. "So you  _ do  _ want to become a death eater?"

Draco just gaped at him.

"That's what I thought. Look, if you're that worried, go home for Christmas and I'll show you the way there from King's Cross." Gabriel clapped Draco on the shoulder. "You can show up or not, I'll take that as your answer. Sound fair? Good. Have a nice night."

He turned on his heel and left the bathroom without waiting for an answer.

* * *

 

Umbridge barely entered Gabriel's mind over the next few weeks, though Michael kept grumbling about how stupid the classes were, and he was content to simply refuse to subject himself to her 'teaching' until the year was over and she was kicked out or killed or however the so-called defense teacher curse manifested itself this time. Whatever it was, he hoped it happened soon. Even a double wasn’t enough to save him from everything. Largely, though, he ignored her.

At least, he was until he ran into Luna late one day in the corridors, both of them on their way back to Ravenclaw tower.

"Oh, hello." She was holding her hands behind her back, and strangely, enough, was barefoot.

"There a reason you're not wearing any shoes?" Gabriel glanced down pointedly at the also sockless feet, and the cold stone floor.

"Oh." Luna glanced down at her feet too. "I go barefoot sometimes - my shoes go missing often, so I don't have any at the moment."

"Missing?” Gabriel frowned. “What do you mean?"

"I'm sure it's just the Nargles," Luna said airily, but her eyes were faintly red. "Everything that goes missing turns up eventually, you know." She made to walk past Gabriel, but he quickly grabbed her wrist. Luna gasped as he pulled her hand up to eye level.

"And did the nargles write this, too?" There were thin cuts on the back of her hand that formed words, a single sentence still bleeding slightly;  _ I must not make things up. _

Luna was staring at him with wide eyes, and didn't answer right away, but she didn't try to leave either.

"Luna."

"No," she admitted softly.

"What happened?" Gabriel asked quietly, making a conscious effort not to sound at all angry - he'd just make her panic if he did.

"I had detention with Umbridge."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed, and he let his thumb rub over the cuts, healing them. He dropped Luna's hand once he’d finished. "Go back to the common room."

"What will you do?" Luna didn't move, still watching him carefully.

"Nothing you need to worry about. Go back to the tower. It's late."

"Harry-"

Gabriel left in a rustle of wings and found the defense classroom, which was empty so late at night. He landed in the adjoining office and grimaced - the entire room was shrouded in pink and all sorts of horrible decorations.

_ Snap.  _ Plain stone walls. What a relief. Gabriel thought he might have been traumatized.

Now, where were the torture tools? There was no way Umbridge would lower herself to actually carving it into Luna's hand (though she might have hired someone - Filch would certainly be willing, except no human could be that precise on their own. Demons, yes, humans, no).

Gabriel yanked three of the drawers out of the desk and emptied them, scattering their contents across the room, before he located a flat case with four quills inside it. Each one held a very strange and angry enchantment. One of them, with almost fresh blood drying on the tip, had been used more recently than the others - apparently no one had bothered to clean it off.

They were very definitely illegal, considering what Gabriel knew of the stringent ban on Dark objects - and if quills that, apparently, used the writer's blood as ink weren't Dark, then Voldemort could have been voted in as Minister of Magic.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed as he picked one up, examining it carefully and the magic it held. He tightened his grip and the quill shattered, bits of metal embedding themselves in the wall and leaving chips in the stone as the feather burned up and left only ash behind. Gabriel didn't bother to clean up the black smudges on the desk as he did the same for two more, pausing when he came to the last one.

After spending centuries as a Trickster, making a copy of the quill was nothing. Gabriel paused to destroy the last one before duplicating the copy three more times until there were four quills again, one still smudged with (fake) dried blood. Then he had to disguise all traces of his presence. The desk was wiped clean, drawers fixed, and even brought back the pink decorations, however painful it was.

Gabriel replaced the box of quills and shut the drawer. Umbridge would be getting a surprise the next time she tried to use them on someone.

As an afterthought, he caused several symbols to be etched onto the wall and then faded out of the visible range of sight, moving upwards to settle on the walls of where the bedroom must be.

No need to make things pleasant for her here at Hogwarts.

As he left the room, Gabriel made sure to scatter a few candy wrappers on the ground under her desk.

* * *

 

Surprisingly enough, Gabriel had to go no farther than the fourth-year girl's dorm in Ravenclaw tower to find Luna's lost shoes, once he got around to it. Still in a Trickster mindset from his little raid on Umbridge, Gabriel considered the trunk he'd found them in. 

"What the hell," he said to himself.

No less than every single trunk in the room had something of Luna's in it, so it wasn't like the prank was  _ undeserved  _ or something ridiculous like that. And besides, it wasn't nearly as fatal as the rest of his tricks tended to be. Sure, he might be slightly out of practice, since his last stint as the Trickster had been months before his little meeting with Lucifer, but it wasn't like he'd forgotten everything to do with it.

Fifteen years wasn't that long, after all.

He left a little pile of found belongings on top of Luna's trunk and returned to the boy's dorms, grinning at the thought of what might happen the next morning.

He'd missed doing things like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, Umbridge. You don't even know how badly you've fucked up.
> 
> Merry Christmas, everyone!


	39. The Trickster Returns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. You all seem excited.
> 
> :)
> 
> I am not nearly done with the Trickster yet. There's plenty more where that chapter came from! Gabriel is going to have a LOT of fun with this.

Gabriel hid a smile behind his goblet as several of the Ravenclaw girls came down to breakfast that morning in borrowed, too-big shoes and sweaters and various other items of clothing. Luna, on the other hand, was wearing a pair of vibrantly patterned red sneakers and smiling widely. 

Umbridge, sitting at the head table, looked exhausted, though Gabriel paid her the barest of glances and only wondered whether or not she'd noticed the Muggle candy wrappers. Despite the effects of the trick Gabriel had left in her office, she looked incredibly pleased about something.

He didn’t want to waste too much attention on her, though. Gabriel turned his attention to the owl swooping towards him, and more specifically the letter clutched in its claws. He flipped it over quickly, to avoid anyone noticing the neat print of his real name on the front of the envelope. 

The letters folded together, from Narvi and Jormungand, were unusually short. They’d succeeded in a second expedition to the local playground, and Jormungand spared a few nice enough words on that. Gabriel tried as much as possible to read between the lines, but there wasn’t much to read aside from things he already knew. 

He hurriedly put the letters in an inside pocket as Hermione came storming over to the table. Michael had been looking dangerously close to asking about them, too.

“Look at this!” Hermione brandished the newspaper at Gabriel. "This is ridiculous!" As she sat down, someone farther down the table tripped over their own feet (which were shod with large, obviously borrowed sneakers) and nearly hit their head on the table.

"What the hell is a 'high inquisitor'?" Michael asked, craning nir neck to try and read the article upside-down. Hermione read aloud from it.

" _ In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 'The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts-" _

"More like he's a paranoid bastard," muttered Gabriel. Hermione gave him a look and kept reading.

" _ -for some time,' said Junior assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley." _

Ron said something rude under his breath. "So that's what he meant!"

"What d'you mean?" Michael looked over at Ron.

"Percy sent me this letter," Ron admitted. "It came last night, he was talking about the pride of being a prefect and all that nonsense, said I should avoid Harry - he doesn't...er... _ know _ , since he left over the summer. Got into a huge fight when he was promoted since dad reckoned Fudge just wanted to keep an eye on us. You know, since the Weasleys have always backed Dumbledore."

"Right," Gabriel agreed absentmindedly. "What else does it say?"

Hermione scanned over the article. "Fudge is the one who appointed her," she informed them, not looking up. "Apparently Dumbledore couldn't find anyone, so they passed a law that let him pick a teacher...an immediate success?! According to who?"

Michael sputtered. "They actually said that? Who's calling her a success?"

"Percy, apparently," said Gabriel, reading the upside-down words.

"Wait, there's more." Hermione propped up the paper slightly. " ' _ The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow teachers and make sure that they are up to Ministry standard. Professor Umbridge has been offered this post in addition to her own teaching job, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted.'  _ Delighted? They're probably thrilled! Their own little spy at Hogwarts..." Hermione descended into mutters which Gabriel guessed were nowhere near complementary.

Ron leaned over to read the article as well. "Malfoy's in here too," he said spitefully. "His dad, anyway." Gabriel frowned at that. Malfoy Sr. had definitely been in the graveyard, so why hadn't he been caught in the act? Gabriel had warned Dumbledore about the death eaters there. Maybe the order hadn't gotten there in time.

"This is outrageous," said Hermione, finally raising her voice to an audible level. "This... _ useless  _ teacher has been foisted on us, and now we've got to deal with her inspecting the other teachers!"

“Couldn’t you do something?” Michael asked Gabriel. “You could get away with it, for sure.”

“I’ve considered it,” Gabriel said idly. “I haven’t come up with anything good yet.”

But Ron, who Gabriel thought was most likely to protest Umbridge second to Hermione, was grinning widely.

"Why are you so happy?" Michael asked, looking at Ron like he was a foreign creature.

"I can't  _ wait  _ to see her try and inspect McGonagall," Ron replied happily. "Umbridge won't know what's hit her."

Gabriel wondered somewhere in the back of his head whether he'd somehow become friends with Ron again, or if Ron was just there because Hermione was.

"We'd better get going," said Hermione, jumping up. "If she's inspecting Binns we wouldn't want to be late."

"Let's hope she's not in Charms," Michael muttered as they got up. "The last thing I need is to see Umbridge first thing in the morning."

"You haven't looked at the Friday schedule properly, have you,” Gabriel said, and then laughed at the look of horror on Michael’s face.

* * *

 

Gabriel was surprised to find Luna in his ancient runes class, and a little less surprised when she immediately signed up to be his partner.

"Shouldn't you be with your own year?" He asked her, with a faint smile.

"They said I could skip a year," Luna replied. "Professor Vector seemed to think that the fourth-year class wasn't challenging enough."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "That's a high compliment to your talent."

"I suppose it is." Luna glanced around she scooted her desk over to be next to his. "The Nargles seem to have switched their attention. They haven't bothered me at all today."

"Lucky for you then, isn't it?" Gabriel took the assignment that Vector was handing out, glancing it over briefly. It looked easy enough, though he’d found that the class was more magical application of runes than understanding of the language itself.

"No, I don't think it's luck," Luna said mildly. "Someone must have used a Nargle repellent to keep them away from my things, but they haven't left completely."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, there seems to still be a bad infestation of them in Ravenclaw tower. I counted at least four other people whose things have gone missing today."

"Sounds horrible.” Gabriel didn’t try to hide his grin. “Maybe you should give them some advice on how to deal with it."

"I did, but I don't think they appreciated having to wait for everything to come back. They seem to be very clumsy as well - it might be the shoes, none of the ones they managed to borrow looked like they fit very well."

"Too bad."

"It is, isn't it?" Luna smiled. “I hope nothing too bad happens. The Nargles can be quite vicious.”

“So I’ve heard,” Gabriel murmured, and thought with vicious satisfaction of all those girls dealing with what they’d dished out.

* * *

 

It took three days before Gabriel came down to the Great Hall and found Umbridge missing from the staff table. Several of the teachers were conversing in hushed voices, and Hermione and Michael were already deep in conversation, this time at the Gryffindor table. In fact, everyone seemed to be having small, secret conversations.

"What's with the somber mood?" Gabriel asked as he sat down, the Gryffindors giving him only passing glances - they'd long ago gotten used to him and Michael sitting in the wrong place.

"It's Umbridge." Hermione leaned across the table to whisper.

"What about her?"  _ Finally! _ he thought to himself. 

"She's in the hospital wing," Michael answered, wiping away Gabriel's newfound good mood. She’d only been  _ hurt? _

"Seriously?" Gabriel didn't let a single trace of his disappointment show, either in his voice or on his face. "What for?"

"No one knows except the teachers," Ron said, joining the conversation. "Something happened last night that seriously injured her, but no one's been told what it was. Some people are saying that the teachers were barely in time."

"You're saying someone tried to kill Umbridge?" Hermione said, flabbergasted. "Well - I know she wasn't a good teacher, but who would go that far?"

Michael shrugged. "You know what I heard?" Ne said, leaning over the table as if to form a small circle. "Fred and George mentioned it in passing before they left - they overheard McGonagall talking and say that the teachers reckon some sort of magical creature got into the castle."

"What creature does something like that?"

Gabriel raised his eyebrows as they all turned to look at him.

"What?" he asked irritably. There was no way they'd guessed that it was him.

"Have you ever heard of a creature that does something like this?" Ron asked, slightly awkwardly. "I mean, you'd know, right."

"Not necessarily," Gabriel replied, but he spotted an absolutely golden opportunity. He leaned forward over the table. "But as luck would have it, I might have heard of something."

"What?" All three of them leaned in closer.

"A Trickster," Gabriel said in a low voice. "Never really met one-"  _ Technically _ true. "-but I've seen the results of a couple of their tricks. They're sort of like demigods, and immortal, going back to Loki and Anansi, who were a couple of the first Tricksters. There was an Aztec trickster too, I think, but I can never pronounce their names. Usually, they appear as human, but they can look like anything they want to."

"What do they do?" Hermione asked, immersed in the new information.

"They basically go after the high-and-mighty, knock them down a peg," Gabriel explained, "They like creating mayhem. But they've got a humorous streak - deadly pranks and the like. It's like, I don't know - sending an army of Muggleborns to kill Voldemort."

"That would never work," Ron scoffed.

"It was just an example," Gabriel shot back.

"But how powerful are they?" Hermione asked, bringing back Gabriel's attention.

Gabriel shrugged. "I can't give you an exact answer. Pretty damn powerful, though - they can create anything, and it'll be totally real. Even people. I mean, they're not technically real people, but they're not just illusions. And can do plenty of other things besides that."

Michael looked slightly disbelieving. "Wouldn't that go against some law of magic or another?"

"I don't think they use the same kind of magic you guys have." Gabriel grinned. "Sort of like me, right?"

"Shouldn't you be more careful about saying that?" asked Ron, glancing around.

"Not really. If I don't want someone to hear something, they won't hear it."

Hermione was frowning thoughtfully. "Is there a way to tell if it's a Trickster?"

"There's one sure-fire way." Gabriel leaned back, grinning. "Candy wrappers."

"I'm sorry?"

"Tricksters will leave them everywhere - they've got a hell of a sweet tooth, they eat candy all the time."

"Sort of like you," Michael laughed. "Sounds like something you'd do if Hermione wasn't here."

Hermione gave them both dark looks with no real heat behind them and Gabriel shrugged, still grinning. "Maybe. Point is, if it was a Trickster that put Umbridge in the hospital wing, there's going to be candy wrappers somewhere." Idly, he wondered if anyone had found the wrappers he'd left in Umbridge's office.

"So what, we sneak in and look?" Michael questioned with an air of exasperation. "That's going to be impossible."

"Of course not. Just keep your eyes open and look."

"Harry, I doubt any wrappers will still be there," Hermione said, smiling slightly.

"I didn't say that. Because there's another thing about Tricksters-" Gabriel leaned forward. "They never take just one victim."

* * *

 

News of the Trickster seemed to have spread all over Hogwarts by that night, and groups of huddled students discussed it during their new free periods while Dumbledore looked for a new defense teacher. It was now taken as fact by the majority of the student population that it was a Trickster that had attacked Umbridge in her office. While Michael and Hermione were bewildered as to how the news got out, they didn't question it - and as for how anyone else had found out, Gabriel had basically told them the reason. If he didn't want someone to hear something, they wouldn't hear it, but the opposite was also true.

Gabriel, however, had other concerns that night.

"Fucking wizards," he muttered as he strode invisibly along the hallways. His wings got sore if he used them too often, and the ones he’d lost  _ still  _ ached, but he could disguise his presence easily. "They ruin  _ everything.  _ Can't even properly  _ kill _ someone without them interfering. It's none of their business but oh no, we have to save her, because we are morons who don't know when to keep their noses out of it!" He didn’t even care about Umbridge that much, but they’d made it  _ personal. _ He wasn’t going to let a bunch of humans interfere with this trick.

The hospital wing was nearly empty, but it seemed like Gabriel was not the only one paying a late-night visit.

"How is Professor Umbridge?" Dumbledore asked, robes trailing over the floor.

"As well as can be said for someone in that condition," Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Some Healers from St Mungo's came over - they wanted to see what might have caused it." St Mungo's? What the hell was that, a wizarding hospital?

"I see. How long will she be away?"

"I couldn't say - I'd say they'll keep her at St Mungo's for a week, at least, not counting an observation period. I patched her up as best I could."

_ Shit.  _ Umbridge wasn't here anymore?

"No one is blaming you, Poppy," Dumbledore said reassuringly as Gabriel resisted the urge to swear profusely and possibly kick something.

"Yes, but Albus-" Madam Pomfrey drew closer. "The state she was in - what could have done that?"

"I have no way of knowing for sure. I am sure the students have come up with their own theory by now."

"I've heard them talking - do you think there's any truth to it?"

"That there is a Trickster in our school?" Dumbledore sighed. "I do not know. I cannot claim to have any experience with something like this. But I did find this, while looking around her office." There was a crinkle as Dumbledore drew something out of his pocket.

"What's this?" More crinkling, and Madam Pomfrey's confusion was evident. "Muggle candy?"

"We may be dealing with something very old, and something the likes of which I have never seen before." Dumbledore said heavily.

Oh yes, they were. And if they were going to keep Umbridge in some sort of mysterious hospital, then Gabriel was going to make the absolute best he could of the situation at hand.

* * *

 

Gabriel couldn’t sleep, and didn’t feel much of a need to, either, so he spent that night writing a letter back home. He’d always had a talent for communication, but even so he kept pausing to think over what to say.

About halfway through, after he’d reconsidered and rewritten ninety percent of the sentences, Gabriel erased all the the ink off it and just  _ wrote _ . What did it matter what he said? The point was that they were talking.

He wished he had some pictures of his own to send, in exchange for the ones he occasionally got, but it would be too weird to ask that Gryffindor kid who was always toting around a camera to take some for him. Gabriel settled for doodling a little in the margins.

Letters would suffice, until he could actually go home.

Umbridge's hospitalization was the front page of the newspaper that day, but unfortunately it provided no more insight as to the location of 'St Mungo's' than Dumbledore had. There were also no details as to what had happened to her, so none of the students save Gabriel knew exactly what had happened.

He had designed the trick, after all.

"They don't say anything about what might have gotten her," said Hermione, scanning the article as they walked, having all four of them decided to enjoy the grounds on the abnormally nice day. "You know, Harry, I'm beginning to think that it might have really been a Trickster."

"You wouldn't know how to defend against one, would you?" Ron asked.

"Sure," Gabriel. "Don't be an asshole to anyone and you're probably good."

"That's hardly helpful," Hermione muttered.

"I'm serious," Gabriel said, glancing over at her. "Tricksters go after assholes. Say the Slytherins kept cheating at the broom game-"

"Quidditch." Michael interrupted, looking back at Gabriel over nir shoulder.

"Whatever. But say the captain kept cheating - the Trickster might cause an accident in the game so that he can't play again, or maybe take a look at some sort of fictional character who cheats a lot and send them after the captain."

"You can't sic fictional characters on people," Hermione protested.

"Tricksters can - they just create a version of that character in real life, complete with whatever powers they might have." Gabriel shrugged. "I said they were powerful, remember? A powerful enough illusion can have the illusion of a physical presence, too."

"That's ridiculous, though." Hermione looked faintly worried. "Something like that - I mean, that powerful - it can't exist!"

Gabriel arched an eyebrow, giving her a  _ seriously?  _ look. "Can't it?"

Hermione realized her mistake. "Oh - well, I mean, of course  _ you  _ exist-"

"Who's more powerful?" Ron asked. "You or the Trickster?"

Gabriel gave him an affronted look. "Me, obviously." Archangels outranked Tricksters in every way possible, even though he was technically both.

"When was the last time you met a Trickster?" Michael questioned, slowing down to fall back next to Gabriel.

"Never, remember?" Gabriel reminded nir. "Never met one. I have heard of some of their tricks, though."

"Well, what were they like?"

"Well..." Gabriel racked his mind for one of his better tricks. Not the mystery spot, that had been a bit violent, and it would take too long to explain anyway. "There was one time - a guy who was known for having anger management problems, kept beating people up - especially his wife."

"Oh, that's horrible." Hermione said, shaking her head.

"Exactly, that's why the Trickster went after him. So he took the Hulk - he's a comic book character, basically a guy who turns into this enormous monster when he's angry. Anyway, the Trickster snaps up his own version of the Hulk-" Gabriel drew a line across his throat. "Bam. Head gone. It was blamed on a bear, I think."

"They sound pretty violent," said Michael, who contrary to nir words didn't look very surprised or even horrified.

"They're old," Gabriel replied. "All the really old beings can be pretty vicious."

"...Including you?" Hermione asked tentatively.

Gabriel turned around to face her, the group slowly coming to a halt.

"You know," Gabriel said eventually, "You're only asking that because you've only seen one side of me." He grinned and patted her on the shoulder.

"So is that a yes?" Ron questioned nervously.

Gabriel laughed. "Calm down. I like you. You're safe from whatever smiting you think is coming, believe me."

"Because you  _ like  _ us?" Gabriel swung around, laughing over Hermione's incredulous question.

"Bet none of you can skip a stone halfway across the lake!" He shouted, lengthening his stride to run down the hill towards the lake.

* * *

 

Over the next few days, a trade similar to the one which had sprung up during the whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco made its rounds in the student population.

People had flooded the library, looking for books which so much as alluded in even the vaguest of ways to Tricksters and how to protect yourself from them, and Gabriel laughed his ass off in private at some of the things people had come up with - some of which were cons to get money from younger, more gullible students, and some of which were completely serious but so, so wrong.

It wasn’t not like any of them would have worked on Gabriel anyway.

The teachers didn't seem to notice the artifact trade, but they did notice the growing restlessness and nervous energy. Even the staff seemed to be affected - from what Michael said, Trelawney had taken to predicting even darker and more perilous ends for a growing number of his classmates.

Gabriel was almost tempted to sit in and get a few ideas, because after the exact definition of what a Trickster was had circulated, people were keeping a tight lid on any 'high and mighty' thoughts or actions.

Of course, Gabriel didn't really care about that. Mostly, he was berating himself for somehow having forgotten about Snape.  _ Jackpot,  _ anyone? He’d made such a scene of Tricksters picking more than one victim and then hadn’t even though about who would be next.

Gabriel had to take time to prepare, of course, if he wanted everything to go smoothly (what he'd dubbed 'the idiot box' took energy, if not time, to make), and so it was several more days before the Potions master abruptly disappeared.

As with Umbridge, people panicked, but no one seemed very worried about the man except for the teachers. Gabriel let him stew for a few days (who knew how long it had been for Snape) before going to see how things were going.

One step into the Trickster box made him know that he had definitely picked the right target.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm really going to end it there. You can wait 'til Friday, like the people who read this as I was still writing it.
> 
> Comment, please!


	40. Snape and Student Rebellion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehehehehe
> 
> Oh boy, Snape. You guys are going to get a kick out of this, I can tell.
> 
> I've gotten a couple reviews recently that said [as most of you can probably relate to] that they weren't too sharp on Norse Mythology and would like a concrete explanation as to what had happened to the kids.
> 
> While I can promise that one is coming, I can't say that it's coming soon. Why? Because when it does happen, I want to be able to realistically work it into the story, and the kids in this particular part of this 'verse aren't really major characters. Personally, I think Gabriel doesn't spill anything to people about himself unless he's super close to them. Especially not something like that. As you saw earlier, he even refused to tell Balthazar.
> 
> As another personal note, I think there are only a couple people in the world that he'd tell, if they asked. And one of those people will show up. Eventually. Just stick with me until we get there, alright?

Gabriel thought that his little Snape box was working well - maybe it wasn't as entertaining as the Winchester's escapades had been, but it was a lot more specific, so there was that to take into account.

He'd needed to take a quick little rummage through the man's history to find the right ‘settings’, as it were, but the right configuration had yielded an absolute treasure trove of possibilities.

Snape was going to  _ flip _ his  _ shit. _

Gabriel sniggered as he watched the man. He had rewound to the moment Snape first found himself in the 'classroom', and at the moment Snape was looking around at his surroundings in utter bewilderment. The 'students' continued to work, seemingly oblivious to the presence of a grown man in their midst, though that might have been because Gabriel had replaced his robes with regular 'Muggle' clothing, as Snape would call it.

Currently, Gabriel was sitting a few rows behind Snape, avidly watching the proceedings. This was going to be great. He was disguised as a high schooler, with dark skin and darker hair, since there was no reason for him to look like Harry Potter here and if Snape actually figured it out he'd just use his default Trickster disguise - aka, his last vessel.

"Dude, are you going to help?"

"What?"

"Are you gonna help?" The girl sitting next to Snape held out an empty test tube. "We have to get this done by the end of the period - partners, remember?"

"I am not your partner," Snape snarled.

"Whatever, just help out, okay? I'm not failing Chemistry because of you."

Snape glared fiercely at her. The girl frowned back. "What is up with you?"

"What in Merlin's name is that supposed to mean?"

The girl looked at him critically. "Are you  _ high?" _

"I have  _ no idea-" _

The teacher swooped down on them in a manner not unlike Snape's. "Miss Milton. Mr. Snape. Is something the matter here?"

"He says I've got to do all the work," the girl said immediately, looking up at the teacher with wide eyes.

"I said no such-"

The teacher turned on Snape with what looked like vindictive pleasure. "Shirking your work again, Snape? Tsk, tsk, I'm afraid that will be a zero for today."

Snape sputtered for a moment. "This is outrageous-"

"If you couldn't handle my class, then why did you sign up for it?" The teacher challenged.

"I did not sign up for this!"

"Oh, really? Then I suppose your name is on my roster for no reason? And that you didn't come to me last term asking to switch to my class?"

"I would never-"

"Detention, Mr. Snape. I do not tolerate those who refuse to do their fair share of work."

" _ What?"  _ Snape was the textbook picture of furious indignation.

"Two day's detention."

"This is-"

"Three days. I could go on, Mr. Snape."

Snape sneered at the teacher for all he was worth. "You cannot give me detention!"

"Can't I? You seem unaware who is the student in this relationship, Mr. Snape."

"I am not your student!" Snape shouted, standing up. "This is  _ ridiculous-" _

"Mr. Snape!" Snape paid no attention and whirled around, heading for the door. As he passed Gabriel's table, a mixture inside one of the test tubes bubbled and explode, Gabriel shoving himself backwards to avoid the worst of it. Snape, however, was not so lucky, receiving a face full of ash and smoke.

"Whoa, sorry!"

"Idiot!" Snape snapped, reaching for where he must have usually concealed his wand and freezing when he found it missing.

"Something wrong?" Gabriel dug into the backpack which was in the seat next to him for authenticity. "Look, here, I've got some M&Ms if you want-"

Snape gave him his best withering glare and strode out of the classroom, the teacher still shouting behind him.

"Rude," Gabriel muttered, as his surroundings blurred and he was on the other side of the door and in a new shape (this time picking a shape distinctly similar to one of the Weasley twins, except slightly different and with less freckles). Snape was looking around himself in shock again.

The door had led to a brand-new scenario, this one looking identical to the Potions dungeons in Hogwarts, and Snape's clothing had reverted to his usual batlike robes. Snape, however, looked very suspicious.

Obviously, he knew it wouldn't be that easy. He was a bit smarter than Gabriel had given him credit for.

He strode out of the dungeons, banging the door open and almost immediately running into a redheaded woman, causing her to drop all of the books and scrolls she was carrying.

"Merlin, Severus! What was that for?"

Snape was staring at the woman in astonishment, shock, and something like hope. " _ Lily?" _

Lily frowned as she bent down to pick up her things. "No need to sound so surprised - I do work here. What are  _ you  _ doing here?"

"What am-" Snape was still staring at her. "You work here?"

Lily frowned harder, looking worried. "Severus, I've been working here for the last ten years. Has something happened to you?"

Snape was looking more and more confused. "But - the Dark Lord-"

"The what?" Lily looked very worried now. "What are you talking about?"

"The Dark Lord!"

"Severus,  _ what  _ dark lord? There hasn't been one since Grindelwald!"

Snape stared at her with his mouth hanging open slightly.

"Something's happened," Lily decided. "I'm taking you to Madam Pomfrey, you've obviously been hexed or  _ something." _

"I haven't-" Verbal was the only kind of protest Snape made as Lily dragged him up the staircases through Hogwarts, which was exactly identical to the real version. Gabriel had spent too much time exploring for it to be anything otherwise.

Slightly bored with the proceedings, Gabriel fast-forwarded (for lack of a better word) until he caught a glimpse of Snape storming out of a room and 'paused' there.

Snape was muttering furiously under his breath and Gabriel took the opportunity to round the corner and stop just short of crashing into him, a Hershey bar in one hand.

"Watch where you're going!" Snape snapped, too distracted to get off a glare or even the tiniest sneer. Gabriel must have guessed right in thinking that 'Lily' would unsettle him.

"Sorry," Gabriel said, snapping off a piece of the chocolate and popping it into his mouth. Snape's eyes darted over to him and he frowned minutely, as if puzzling over something. His eyes flickered over the chocolate bar (the Muggle wrapper obvious) and then over Gabriel.

"Something wrong?" Gabriel asked, sounding as sincere as he could and edging past Snape like he was just a kid trying to get away from the creepy guy who was staring at him way to intently.

Snape suddenly lunged at Gabriel and with a quick snap of his fingers Gabriel sent him off into the next scenario. With the hallway suddenly empty, Gabriel took another bite of the chocolate bar.

"I'll give him one thing," he said aloud to himself. "He figured it out pretty quickly." Then again, Gabriel had been rather obvious, so it might not count.

But why stand here when Snape was off stumbling through the other half of the box? Gabriel let Hogwarts vanish around him and stepped into the current disaster.

This pattern continued on for some time - Snape would find himself in a completely new scenario, and have to figure out the rules as he went, as everyone seemed determined to only give him the barest of clues as to what he was supposed to be doing, with no real details. The most commonly-used phrase was 'Aren't you smart enough to figure this out on your own?'

Honestly, Gabriel was a bit surprised that Snape hadn't figured out the point of all this yet. He had figured out that Gabriel was the Trickster even under disguise, and yet he didn't seem to be able to grasp exactly what he was supposed to be doing.

Well, less doing, more going through.

Gabriel was one of the people he encountered in every single scenario - a sniper, a passenger on a bus, a storekeeper, an authority figure in a completely made-up world that Gabriel had created just for shits and giggles. Half the time, Snape only noticed who he was once candy had come into play, but after the fourteenth time they'd started a new 'play' he began to get faster at identifying Gabriel.

Gabriel was standing in the kitchen of a house with several other constructs when he became aware of Snape standing behind him.

"Something wrong?" He asked, turning around. "Need help figuring out the toaster again?"

"I know what you are," Snape said threateningly.

"O...kay...incredibly stalkerish and serial-killer like statement aside, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I mean,  _ Trickster, _ " Snape snarled. "Release me from this parody world."

"Are you drunk?"

"Enough!" Snape strode forward with two quick steps and pushed Gabriel up against a nearby wall. "No more games!"

_ Fzzt. _

Snape glanced around at the noise, and stopped, staring, when he noticed that everyone in the room had frozen. It was a party scenario, so a room full of absolutely still constructs was pretty creepy.

"Sorry," Gabriel dragged out the word, letting himself bleed back into the short, amber-eyed figure. "Games are kind of in my job description."

"Then play them on your own," Snape growled.

"Or what?" Gabriel scoffed, pulling Snape's arm away from his neck with a purposefully tight grip. "Don't see your wand - and I really doubt you can kill me."

"Really?" Snape challenges, and he let what was obviously supposed to be a stake slide into his hand, the tip stained red.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows at it and whistled. "Wow. How long did it take you to make that? No, let me guess - your blood?" He wondered how on Earth Snape had managed to figure  _ that  _ one out - but the dribble of blood on the tip looked accidental, and a stake was a pretty rudimentary weapon to make.

Snape didn't answer, but his hand tightened around the makeshift stake which looked like it had been made out of one of the stair posts.

"Really. Counting yourself as one of my victims? You know that refers to those I've already finished with, right?" Gabriel let a flicker of 'worry' pass over his face - no need to discourage the man. "Good luck getting ahold of something like that. I mean, it's not like you could go track down Umbridge, right?"

"So that was you."

" _ Obviously."  _ Gabriel rolled his eyes. "And here I was thinking that you were supposed to be smart."

Snape's eyes darkened and he half-raised the stake with a sharp movement, and Gabriel let his eyes flicker briefly to the stake. He raised one hand and snapped, the wooden mess vanishing from Snape's hand.

"Much better," he said cheerfully. "It's very hard to have a civil discussion when one person is threatening the other."

"I would hardly call this civil," Snape replied acidly.

Gabriel snorts. "Not with you, no. Come on! Do you even know what the point of all this is? Have you been able to figure that much out?"

"I am here because you enjoy causing trouble."

Gabriel laughed in his face at that. "Wizards know  _ nothing  _ of Tricksters, don't they?" He wagged his finger at Snape, walking around absentmindedly. "There is always a reason, and just because you're too stubborn to see it doesn't mean it's not there."

"And what...lesson...would you have me learn?" Snape's voice was heavy with disdain.

"Now, what kind of Trickster would I be if I just told you?" Gabriel grinned at Snape. "Have fun." He snapped his fingers and the man was gone in a second, the scenario bleeding away until Gabriel found himself on his bed in the Ravenclaw dorms, about ten minutes after he'd first gone into the 'idiot box'.

"Boring," he complained to himself, sliding onto the floor. "Eh, I'll just check back later and see if he's got it yet."

* * *

 

"Where were you earlier?" Michael asked as Gabriel slid into the neighboring seat in Transfiguration. "I checked in the dorm but I didn't see you."

"I was in Muriel's room," Gabriel lied, a tiny twinge of guilt making itself known. "Just brushing up on some stuff."

Michael gave Gabriel a look that said ne wasn't fooled. Huh. That was a first. "How'd you get here so quickly, then?"

"Flew."

Michael gave Gabriel a long look.

"What are you being so suspicious for?" Gabriel protested.

"Settle down, now." McGonagall interrupted Michael's answer, standing at the front of the classroom. "Now, today we will be learning about the Vanishing spell..."

Class passed quickly (even if Gabriel did cheat a little to get all of his mouse to vanish) and the short conversation was all but forgotten as they left the classroom.

"Oh!" Michael caught Gabriel's shoulder. "I almost forgot - Hermione said she wanted to talk to you later."

"Later today? Why?"

Michael shrugged. "She didn't feel like telling me, but she and Ron have been cooking something up recently."

Gabriel leaned up against the wall. "Okay, so talk during dinner or something?"

"That's the thing. She asked if we could meet her in the common room."

" _ Her  _ common room?"

"Yeah. Late at night, or something, I guess."

Gabriel whistled. "Didn't expect her to be so daring. She give you the password?"

Michael nodded. "She said it had to be today since it's Friday, and she didn't want us to stay up late the night before classes. Can you bring your cloak?"

"Er-" Gabriel considered that. "That would be a bit difficult. I'll explain later."

"What, did you lose it?"

"Of course not. I just told you, I'll explain later."

"Fine," Michael relented. "You're in charge of making us invisible, anyway."

"Or we could-"

" _ You're in charge of making us invisible." _

"Michael, I get all tingly when you take control like that."

* * *

 

Midnight that night, Michael was waiting in the common room for Gabriel, who was in fact already in the Gryffindor one waiting for everyone else to leave. He was standing invisibly in one of the corners and trying to subtly, mentally persuade a very stubborn seventh year that they should go up to their dorm and seriously considering just zapping them asleep and into their bed.

Finally, though, the seventh year left, and Gabriel flew back quickly to Ravenclaw tower to get Michael.

Michael jumped slightly as Gabriel appeared in front of nem. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry," said Gabriel, cheerfully and entirely unapologetic. "Ready to go?" He didn't wait for a 'yes' before putting a hand on Michael's shoulder, and suddenly they were both in the Gryffindor common room, right in between Ron, Hermione, and the fire.

Ron shoved himself backwards forcefully and upended a bottle of ink, while Hermione jumped violently and Michael grabbed onto the nearest chair in an attempt to keep nemself steady.

"Bloody hell!"

" _ Ron!" _

"You're the one who asked us to come, don't sound so surprised." Gabriel took a seat, flopping into an empty armchair. "Holy shit these are really comfortable." He wiggled around, draping his legs over one arm and leaning up against the other. "So what did you want to talk about?"

Hermione recovered from the surprise. "Well, I expected you to come through the door - er, anyway, Ron and I have been talking."

"That's new."

Hermione gave him an unimpressed look. " _ As I was saying,  _ we were talking about how our replacement defense teacher is totally useless."

"No kidding." The replacement Dumbledore had found was a shaky, newbie Auror named Ackerly who refused to teach them anything but the theory, citing 'Ministry standards'.

"So we were thinking we should do something about it," Ron continued, glancing at Michael, who had taken a seat in one of the other unoccupied chairs and was listening intently.

"Let me guess," said Gabriel, raising one finger. "You've already thought of a 'something'."

"Sort of," Hermione admitted. "We were thinking of doing some sort of club."

"A club?" Michael frowned slightly, his brows drawing together.

"Like defense club," Hermione elaborated. "Where we teach spells and stuff, since the class isn't helping at all."

"And you propose we do this, how?"

"Well, obviously we'd have to keep it a secret." Ron jumped in. "But we thought - er - maybe..."

"I could teach?" Gabriel guessed the rest of his sentence. "That's why you told me about all this."

"We were going to tell you anyway," Hermione protested. "But yes, we-" Ron made a slicing motion across his throat. "-Fine,  _ I,  _ thought you would be the most experienced."

“... _ Why? _ Just because I have power doesn’t mean I know shit about your kind of magic.”

“Well, that’s where we come in, of course. And you know how to handle power responsibly, don’t you?”

“Plus you’d be able to keep it secret with whatever power you’ve got,” Ron added quickly. “Gives us an advantage and all.”

Gabriel grinned at him. "And do you have any idea how we're supposed to gain members for this club, while also keeping it a secret? Or where we're supposed to hold it?"

"Er-"

"Or were you just going to figure that out as you went."

"Look," Hermione said, looking put out, "If you don't like the idea-"

"Who says I don't like it? I think it sounds like the most interesting idea since the school got caught up in all this Trickster madness. I’m just wondering about the specifics."

"Interesting?" Ron questioned.

Gabriel grinned sharply at him. "A secret club going against ministry policy sounds pretty illegal, don't you think? Hell yeah I'm in. I'm just pointing out your plan could use some improving."

"So what do you suggest?" Hermione asked, relaxing slightly.

Gabriel shrugged. "There's only one place I can think of that's secret enough, and that wouldn't work if Ginny wanted to join."

"Why not?" Michael asked, not as sharply as Gabriel might have expected a boyfriend to react. Gabriel glanced at him curiously.

"Well, I really doubt she'd want to go  _ back  _ to the Chamber of Secrets."

Ron went rather pale at the mention of that. "Wouldn't that be all dark and stuff?"

"Well, yes, and the gigantic snake corpse, but I assume we would clean it up in this scenario." Gabriel scoffed. "Honestly, did magic not occur to you? Also, I'm the only one who can open the door, so no one would be able to get the jump on us."

"Well-" Ron looked reluctant. "What about Ginny?"

"I could stand it." Gabriel was the only one who didn't jump, having sensed Ginny come down about ten minutes ago.

"Ginny!"

"I don't care where you have it," Ginny said determinedly, coming to stand behind Hermione's chair. "I dealt with the stuff that happened in the Chamber and seeing it again isn't going to send me into a panic attack." To Gabriel, her determination sounded more along the lines of a person trying to convince themself that what they’re saying is true.

"You sure?" Gabriel asked - not unkindly, but with one eyebrow arched.

Ginny sent him a glare, unbothered by his angel status.

"You're sure," Gabriel concluded. "I guess we’re doing this, then. How are we supposed to get members?"

Hermione straightened. "That," she said, "Is something I can take care of."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! You all finally know what happened to Snape.
> 
> Comment, please, and let me know what you think!


	41. In Which There Is Cleaning & A Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Snape in this chapter, but I promise I'll get to him eventually! In the meantime, I hope you'll be content with this universe's version of the D.A.

It was decided that they would all go down to the chamber the next day and figure out what to do with it - sans Ginny, of course, who despite the insistence that she would be fine refused to go anywhere near it while the basilisk was still there.

So that was how Gabriel found himself standing in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on a Saturday, accompanied by several confused wizards and one witch.

"The entrance is in a bathroom?" Hermione questioned, looking around skeptically.

"Hey, I didn't build it." Gabriel walked over to the sinks, looking for the snake that showed the entrance. "Here it is -  _ open _ ."

Ron jumped violently at the sudden strangled hissing noise. All three of them watched in fascination as the sink descended into the floor, revealing a long pipe which was still absolutely filthy.

"Wow, it's even dirtier than I remembered." Gabriel peered over the edge, and whistled. "Anyone know any cleaning spells?"

"Couldn't you just use your power?" Michael asked.

"I could." Gabriel snapped his fingers, the grime vanishing from the pipe. "Unfortunately this thing doesn't have any stairs, so we'll have to slide down. I vote that Ron goes first."

"Why me?" Ron demanded. "Why not you?"

"Because I just cleaned off the entire thing and I've got to go last to close it behind us, remember? Get in the damn pipe before someone walks in on us."

"Honestly," Hermione huffed, walking forward. " _ I'll  _ go first, if it's that big of a deal." She stepped up to the edge of the pipe and looked down nervously.

"Watch out for the skeletons at the bottom," Gabriel warned cheerfully. Hermione shot him a look that said she wasn't sure whether or not he was joking, but she took a deep breath, sat on the edge, and pushed herself in.

"Next?" Gabriel looked at Ron and Michael as Hermione vanished down the pipe.

"What the hell," Michael muttered, and jumped in without any sort of pretense. Ron eyed the pipe in worry, taking a few steps forward.

"You were joking about the skeletons, right?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes and pushed Ron in. He waited for the yells to fade a little bit and then stepped inside himself.

It was remarkably easy to stay still at the top when you made yourself float.

" _ Close. _ " Surprisingly, that worked. Gabriel let himself fall as the sink ground back into place and bent the space of the pipe as he went, making it much shorter while still connecting the bathroom and the chamber, so that it would be that much easier to get back up to the school. When he landed at the bottom, he was greeted by a pale-faced Hermione.

"I thought you were  _ joking!" _

"Well I never said they were human skeletons," Gabriel retorted, vanishing the skeletal mess under their feet as he stood up. "And let me remind you that this was your idea, not mine."

“You brought up the Chamber!”

“I meant the club in general.”

He walked forward across the now-clean floor, noting that the chamber was identical to how he'd left it - giant snakeskin and all.

"Holy shit!" Michael stopped dead when ne saw it.

"That's not the actual snake, you know," Gabriel said. The skin was still strewn about the antechamber, as poisonous green as it had been the last time he’d been down there.

"Merlin," Hermione breathed. "It's  _ huge. _ "

Gabriel nodded. "That it was, Hermione, and you're welcome for me killing it." He stepped over the skin, which vanished in the thought. "Come on, the actual chamber is this way."

"There's more of this?" Michael shook his head as he followed Gabriel. "How much space did Slytherin need?"

"Judging by the snake? A lot."

Words seemed to fail the trio as they stared at the body of the basilisk, still lying on its side on the floor of the main chamber.

"You know," Gabriel mused, striding forward and completely ignoring the giant half-decomposed corpse, "I didn't really pay attention before, but this place is filthy." And smelled disgusting, too. Gabriel snapped his fingers and cleared the air.

Michael made a small noise that might have indicated exasperation. "That's really all you're going to comment on?"

"Well, I already saw the snake, so yeah." Gabriel spun around to face them. Hermione was still staring at the basilisk, and Ron was looking a little bit pale, but Michael seemed to have mostly recovered.

"So..." Michael walked forward cautiously. "You're sure there's nothing else in here?"

"Nope. Could be anything, but probably nothing alive. Doubtful that there’s anything we’ll need to worry about." Gabriel frowned at a dark brown stain on the floor, which dripped all over the place before mixing with a larger black spot. "Huh."

Hermione did another double take when she saw what Gabriel was looking at. "Is that blood?"

"Probably." Gabriel glanced around at the spotted trail. "I must have moved around more than I remembered." His attention drifted back to the basilisk, and Gabriel frowned thoughtfully - should he just vanish it all in one swoop?

"That's  _ your  _ blood?" Hermione stepped away from it quickly.

"Well, I can guarantee that it wasn't Ginny's, because if she'd lost that much she wouldn't have recovered nearly as quickly," Gabriel said, deciding to just vanish the lot of the snake and snapping his fingers to do so. The chamber looked much bigger as soon as it vanished. "Though an argument could be made as to how, technically, it's my - er, Harry's blood."

Hermione gave Gabriel a calculating look but didn't call him out on the blunder. "Can't you get rid of it?"

"Sure."  _ Snap.  _ The brownish stains vanished, but the dry ink remained. Frowning, Gabriel tried again, and it still resisted his efforts. "Huh." Gabriel poked it with his foot. "That's some pretty dark stuff."

Michael glanced at the dark spot warily. "You can't get rid of it?"

"I can," said Gabriel, using his best insulted voice. "But it's probably better if I wait until you three are gone so I don't burn out anyone's eyes."

"Oh," said Ron, who had been mostly quiet. "Alright then. So, er - what do we do?"

"Well, if any of you feel like chipping in and trying to make this place somewhat habitable, feel free."

* * *

 

A few hours later, the Chamber looked like it had undergone a sort of deep-clean, courtesy of Gabriel shoving everyone else out of the room so he could get rid of the ink stain from the soul-shard diary. Even thousands of miles away (probably, at least), Voldemort was  _ still  _ managing to be irritating. The ink was stubborn, but couldn’t stand up to Gabriel’s Grace.

Hermione had ordered them all to meet her in a shady bar called the Hog's Head that Hogsmeade weekend, and Gabriel was practically held against the wall and sworn to obedience when it came to Hermione making sure that he came.

"Anyone who comes is going to be expecting you to be there, anyway," she said, "So you can't skip out or else they'll think you're lying."

"What, about Voldemort? Come on, Hermione, I've got more important things to think over than a bunch of preteens' opinions."

But Hermione glared so fiercely that eventually Gabriel just went along with it to stop her from looking up 'ways to trap angels' and trying to forcefully drag him into Hogsmeade.

The crowd of twenty-something students, however, was totally unexpected.

"I thought you said  _ some  _ people?" Gabriel hissed, his face not betraying anything. "We need to work on your counting skills, Hermione."

Hermione gave him a dirty look. "It was a little more popular than I expected."

"A  _ little?" _

In twos and threes the large group settled around the table which Michael had found, near the back of the rather empty pub - Gabriel made sure that even if anyone were listening, they wouldn't be able to make out what any of them were saying.

It wouldn't do to be found out before they even started, after all.

Hermione cleared her throat once she realized that everyone was staring at the four of them expectantly, with a couple stray eyes lingering on Cedric, who was one of the first people to show up.

"Well - er - hi," Hermione said eventually. "Er...you all know why you're here - I, I mean myself and a few other people, had an idea that it would be good for us to - I mean, that it might be good for  _ everyone _ to get the chance to actually study Defense Against the Dark Arts - you know, so we can have the opportunity to learn something other than the rubbish that the professor teaches us, because no one can seriously call  _ that  _ defense." Her voice got stronger as she continued.

"Hear, hear," said Anthony, who for some reason had shown up and was avoiding meeting Gabriel’s pointed looks.

"And by that, I mean learning to defend ourselves properly - the real spells, not just theory, anyway-"

Michael interrupted. "And I'll bet all of you want to pass your Defense OWL, right?"

Several people nodded and exchanged glances. There was one girl sitting next to Cedric's girlfriend who could not have looked more clearly like she wanted to be anywhere but in the dingy pub, but she was one out of twenty-five, so Gabriel didn't pay too much attention.

"Well, yes, Michael," said Hermione, shooting him a no doubt meaningful  _ shut up  _ glance, "But also because we've got to be properly trained in defense, because..." she took a deep breath. "Because Voldemort's back."

There was the usual cacophony of reactions - one girl spilled her Butterbeer down her front - but their attention remained fixed on Hermione.

"That's the plan, anyway," Hermione continued. "If you want to join us, we need-"

"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" asked a student with a Hufflepuff scarf suddenly.

Funny, Cedric had given Gabriel the idea that they were all on his side.

"Dumbledore believes it-" Ron started.

"Dumbledore believes  _ him _ ," said the Hufflepuff, jerking his head at Gabriel.

"And me," Cedric pointed out, somewhat stiffly. "Zacharias, I told you about all this already."

His name was Zacharias? Gabriel tried to keep his eyeroll internal. He could already see the kid causing problems, if he was anything like Gabriel's brother.

"Look," Hermione was swift to try and intervene, "That's not what this meeting's supposed to be about. We're here to discuss the club we're forming, but if you're here just for an account of what happened last year you can leave right now."

Zacharias shifted in his seat uncomfortably but didn't get up. A few other people looked nervous, but not one left.

"So," Hermione continued in a firm voice, but Gabriel could tell she was still nervous. "We'll need to figure things out, like how often we'll meet-"

"Is it true that you can do a Patronus?" A ginger girl interrupted.

Gabriel realized she was talking to him. "Me? Yeah. Why?" There was a shift around the group as people sat straighter in interest.

"One of the ghosts said you did," she admitted. "I was talking to the Grey Lady and she mentioned it. The Ravenclaw ghost,” she added, a little puzzled, when she saw Gabriel’s confused expression.

"I never knew that," said a boy with dreadlocks, looking impressed. "A Patronus is supposed to be really difficult."

"You know," said a boy Gabriel was fairly sure was a year or so below him in Ravenclaw, "I was in Dumbledore's office last year, and one of the portraits said you killed a basilisk with the sword that Dumbledore's got in there. Is that true, too?"

Dumbledore had put the sword up as decoration? Gabriel had just left it with him after the whole Chamber debacle - he really couldn't be bothered messing about with whatever secret room Gryffindor had, and the sword was honestly a nightmare. It would have been embarrassing to use - all those rubies and whatnot. Ridiculous.

"Course it's true," Gabriel replied, making everyone who didn't already know stare in outright shock. "You didn't think the whole mess with the chamber solved itself, did you? And speaking of the Chamber, I hope no one's got a problem with visiting it."

There was absolute silence after this declaration.

"Sorry," said Cedric eventually. " _ Visiting  _ the Chamber of secrets?"

Gabriel arched an eyebrow at him. "Do you have a better idea of where we should meet? It's secret, and I'm the only one who can open the door. But if anyone's got a better idea, speak up."

People glanced at each other warily, but either the shock of being told they were going to meet in the chamber of secrets kept them silent or no one did, in fact, have a better idea. Gabriel was betting on a combination of both.

"Right," said Hermione, who was looking relieved that no one had started an argument. "I suppose the next thing would be to talk about how often we should meet, and when-"

"Make sure to leave time for Quidditch practice," said Michael hurriedly.

The Weasley twins nodded in agreement. "Angelina would kill us if we didn't show up." Fred said sagely.

"And that's not an exaggeration," Geroge added. "I think we'd better check with Puddlemere United to make sure Oliver hasn't been killed, because she might be channeling his spirit." Gabriel wondered who Oliver was - he sounded like something of a character.

"Alright, enough," said Hermione good-naturedly as several people laughed. "I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone, but this is rather important, we are learning to defend ourselves against Voldemort's Death Eaters-"

"Well said!" said a rather pompous-sounding boy sitting near Gabriel. "Personally, I think this is really important - even more important than OWLs, really!" He looked around, as if expecting cries of agreement. "I'm really at a loss to say why the Ministry has given us such useless teachers at a time like this - I mean, we didn't have Umbridge long, but her replacement isn't much better!"

Gabriel wondered over the merits of going after the defense teachers so that it would appear that the 'curse' on the position came earlier every time they replaced one.

"Obviously, they're in denial over the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who actively prevents us from performing defensive spells-"

"It's because the Ministry thinks Dumbledore is trying to make his own army," said Luna in a calm voice.

The people sitting around her glanced over and then at their friends, as if to say  _ is she serious? _

"It's because he's got his own army of Heliopaths and doesn't want any competition," Luna continued.

"He hasn't," Hermione snapped.

"He does, actually."

"What are Heliopaths?" A Gryffindor Gabriel only barely recognized asked with a blank look.

"Spirits of fire," Luna told him solemnly. "Great, tall, flaming creatures that gallop across the ground and burn everything in their path."

"There's no such thing," Hermione said impatiently.

"Yes, they do!" Luna said angrily.

"And where's the proof for that?" Hermione asked, slightly haughtily, as if she imagined that the argument would end there and then.

"Okay, okay, calm down," Gabriel said, raising his hands. "And I don't know about Heliopaths, but they sound an awful lot like Ifrit to me. Which is not the point of this meeting"

Hermione stared at Gabriel, obviously surprised that he'd taken Luna's side. "A what?"

"Ask me later, I'm not running a magical creatures class." Gabriel put his hands back on the table. "And I thought we were discussing when to meet?"

"Right," said Michael, who looked entirely relieved that he hadn't been the one forced to stop the argument. "How about once a week? That way we probably won't get in the way of anything."

There were murmurs of agreement and nods around the circle.

"Alright then, we'll send a message out when we've got a time for the first meeting." Hermione seemed to steel herself for something, but it was so subtle that Gabriel doubted anyone other than himself had noticed it. She reached down to her bag and produced a parchment and quill, placing it on the table and sliding it into the middle.

"I think we should all write our names down, just so we know who was here," she said. "But also," Here Hermione took a deep breath. "I think we should also not go shouting about what we're doing. So - so signing is basically agreeing not to tell Professor Ackerly or anyone else about what we're doing."

Gabriel doubted anyone else noticed, but the parchment Hermione had produced was fairly glowing with some kind of enchantment. It carried the faintest tang of some kind of consequence, for something Gabriel couldn’t deduce.

Gabriel said nothing. 

Fred reached for the quill and immediately put his name down, and so did George, but the pompous Hufflepuff - who was sitting next to them - hesitated.

"I - well - I am a prefect," he finally said. "I mean - if this gets out-"

"Honestly, Ernie," Hermione said sharply. "Do you really think I'd lose this list?"

"Er - well, no-" Ernie shrank back slightly under Hermione's stern look. "Yes, I'll sign." And he did so. The list made its rounds until it was sitting in front of Gabriel, who signed  _ Harry Potter  _ with a flourish.

They dispersed after that, a flood of students leaving the pub and vanishing to various corners of Hogsmeade, and Ron, Hermione, Michael, and Gabriel were standing outside the Hog's Head when Hermione turned around and pressed the parchment on Gabriel again.

"Okay, you can actually sign it now."

Michael frowned. "What?"

Gabriel grinned, taking the parchment. "Let me guess - you know it's not valid unless I use my real name?" He waved the parchment in the wintry-cold air. "Magically binding contract. Tsk tsk, Hermione. I didn't think you had the nerve."

Ron blanched behind her. "Magically binding?"

"Oh, relax, Ron," Hermione said impatiently. "Unless you want to go running off shouting about the club, nothing will happen."

"Yeah, those were the terms." Gabriel glanced down at the quill Hermione was offering. "What makes you think this signature doesn't count?"

"Well-" Hermione seemed almost reluctant to say it. "You're not really Harry Potter, are you? So it shouldn't count."

"Smart." Gabriel nodded. "Technically true. And you want to see my fancy angel signature, don't you."

Hermione looked faintly embarrassed, and didn’t answer. Ron, however, looked intrigued.

"Do you have one?" he asked. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"Maybe I do, Ron. Ever occurred to you that there's more than one language in the universe? English didn't magically spring into existence at the beginning of time."

Gabriel took the quill and, with three people peering over his shoulder, signed the parchment with the triangular sigil that meant  _ Gabriel.  _ "Satisfied?"

Hermione peered at the sigil. "What language is that in?" Michael was also looking at it thoughtfully, while Ron just looked a bit confused.

"Mine," said Gabriel cheerfully, shoving the parchment back into her hands. "And if no one minds I'm going to explore."

He flew off before any of them could protest.

* * *

 

Hogsmeade was more boring than Gabriel had expected. He mostly wasted time exploring the Forbidden Forest (avoiding the areas full of spiders and centaurs, of course) until it would be reasonable for him to have gone back to school.

As soon as he got back up to the dorm, Luna bounced up from her seat to greet him.

"I was wondering about what you said about Ifrit," she said immediately. "Do you really think I've just been calling them by the wrong name?"

"Sounds similar enough," Gabriel replied, shrugging. "I don't know about the whole 'galloping' thing, but as far as spirits of fire go? Basically the same thing, from what you've said. But I doubt the Minister has his own army or whatever - their only weakness is magic, so they'd probably do their best to avoid you guys."

"Oh." Luna looked disappointed. "I'll have to let Daddy know, then. It's too bad. He was really sure about that one."

"Well, they  _ could  _ be different things, I don’t know. Let me know if you've got any more conspiracy theories about magical creatures, though, and I'll see what I know."

"Alright then. What about Nargles, though?" Luna pinned Gabriel with a wide-eyed, curious gaze.

"I thought they sounded a bit like Maras - they're Slavic spirits, go around causing confusion."

Luna hummed to herself, nodding. "That’s not quite what Nargles do, but it is similar. Perhaps there’s something to it. Thank you!" She dashed up the stairs to the girl's dorm, leaving Gabriel in the common room.

Gabriel couldn't help but feel like he'd started something outside his control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There should really have been more of Luna in the books. I'm trying my best to include her here!


	42. Tricking the Trickster (And Other Pointless Endeavors)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing the Trickster is REALLY fun. I think I was listening to Prince of Egypt a lot around the time I wrote this, so that helped put me in the right mood :) Although that's less the trickster side of Gabriel...

Their potions substitute was an older man with a truly impressively large mustache called Horace Slughorn.

Gabriel really wasn't sure what to think of him.

On one hand, he was a much better teacher than Snape had ever been. On the other, he was the kind of teacher who picked and collected favorites and was always talking about his old students and their accomplishments.

So Gabriel's opinion was almost evenly split between 'annoying' and 'eh. There are more important things to think about', and he usually went with the latter, because the weird potions substitute was not the most important thing on his mind.

What _was_ on his mind was that Snape was still not cooperating.

Honestly. Snape had been in Gabriel’s trick for how long, now? And he still adamantly refused to say whether he'd figured out the point of it all or not. Maybe he had and was in denial. Maybe he was just blind to his own faults. Whatever the case, Gabriel was seriously considering just sticking him in some sort of fatal scene and letting someone find him in some corner of the castle a few months from now.

There was only so long a trick could go on before it got boring. Gabriel was reminded of why he'd never used the idiot box on anyone except the Winchesters, who were basically the only people he'd tricked that hadn't ended up dead.

But it turned out that the decision was, eventually, taken out of his hands.

It started with little things.

So-called 'magic traps' were littered over the school, obviously meant to try and take the Trickster unawares. Luckily, Gabriel was not only much smarter than they seemed to think he was, none of the traps actually worked.

Then the teachers started trying harder. They started keeping eagle eyes on the classes and Gabriel couldn't eat candy  _ anywhere  _ without someone swooping down on him suspiciously.

If only for the sake of his Twix bars, Gabriel decided to throw them a bone.

If 'stumbling' into one of the traps, Trickster disguise in place and looking down at the trap in surprise wasn't enough to get them to stop,  _ nothing _ would be.

As it turned out, stumbling into one of the traps was exactly enough.

It was only an hour or so, despite the fact that it was nearing midnight, before light starts shining in the distance and Dumbledore turned the corner, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout in tow. They were all holding lit wands, and the white light flickered over the corridor and Gabriel as they came to a stop, careful not to step over the edges of their 'trap'.

Gabriel gave them a slow clap, which was about as sarcastic as a clap could be. "Well  _ done.  _ You've managed to catch yourself a Trickster." Sprout looked surprised at the American accent.

"So you are the one who attacked both Professor Umbridge and Professor Snape?" Dumbledore asked. His face could have been set in stone.

Gabriel shrugged. "I might be," he admitted, grinning. "Come on. Those two? How could I resist?"

"What in Merlin's name is that supposed to mean?" McGonagall demanded. "I hardly think that-"

"Come  _ on,"  _ Gabriel said, drawing out the words and speaking over McGonagall. "None of you? Really?" He whistled in fake amazement. "How deep are you in de-Nile?"

"I presume you are referring to Professor Umbridge's unique teaching method," Dumbledore guessed.

"Just hers?" Gabriel gave Dumbledore a slightly condescending look. "Really. None of you see anything wrong with the other guy's classes." Internally, Gabriel frowned over Dumbledore's wand. There was something a bit off about it - but there was no way it would be that easy. Right? I mean, who would ever guess that  _ he _ had Death's wand?

The four teachers glanced at each other, as if having a silent conversation. Flitwick was the first to speak. "Do you mean how he-"

"Never  _ mind," _ Gabriel said airily, interrupting the smaller teacher. "If you don't know I'm not going to explain myself to you."

"I think we deserve an explanation, since you have stolen two of our teachers," Dumbledore insisted, his tone darkening slightly.

"So, what?" Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "You're going to force me to tell you?"

"You are in our trap," pointed out Sprout.

Gabriel grinned at her. "Oh, am I?"

He vanished silently and reappeared behind them, the teachers stiffening and swinging around to see where he'd gone, light swinging around the walls crazily until they landed on him again like spotlights. Gabriel noticed that the portraits were all watching avidly, like spectators to a show.

"Let's be honest," Gabriel said, still grinning at the teacher's now slightly worried expressions. "We both know that I'm beyond what you're used to dealing with. I'm only here because I wanted a quick chat. So, sorry," Gabriel affected a regretful expression that even the four teachers would be able to tell was fake, "But I'm gonna have to cut this short."

_ Snap. _

* * *

 

He hadn't done anything to the four who came to confront him except give them a vague sense of deja vu which lasted for about twenty-four hours, and okay, maybe he'd switched out Dumbledore's candy dish. It wasn't his fault the man had abominable taste. Lemon candies. Honestly. There weren't even any other choices.

It took another week for anything interesting to happen, and that was only because Gabriel eavesdropped on the next staff meeting.

They were talking about him, of all things. Gabriel settled in to listen.

"I told you, he walked right out of the trap."

"But that's-"

"Impossible,  _ so you have said already.  _ But you were also the one who warned that it might not work-"

"It was a very small possibility, but I was sure that it would-"

"I think we should really bring someone else in."

"Like who?"

"I don't know! People more experienced than us, for sure! Doesn't the Department of Mysteries deal with things like this?"

"You're suggesting that we ask for Ministry aid?"

"I'm saying that someone there might have encountered one of these before."

"Hate to break it to you, sister, but I'm one of a kind." Everyone in the room jumped as Gabriel spoke, whipping around to see him balanced on the windowsill.

"No need to get so excited," Gabriel said cheerfully. Several of the teachers had drawn their wands, but no one made a move to try and attack him.

Dumbledore had stood up from his place at the head of the table. "Why are you here?" He asked.

"Well, that's a loaded question. Why are any of us here? Some might say it's because God got bored and decided to create the world-"

McGonagall made an exasperated noise. "Why did you interrupt our meeting?"

Gabriel pointed at her. "Better question. What you mean is, why interrupt when I could have sat here and found out your exact plans for what to do with me. Right?"

"I must admit," Dumbledore said slowly, "I am curious as to why you announced your presence."

"Why do I do anything?" Gabriel asked rhetorically, dropping down onto the floor. "Honestly? I'm  _ bored."  _ Gabriel absolutely did not whine the last part. "Your Potions professor isn't nearly as interesting as I thought he'd be."

Gabriel could practically feel the atmosphere in the room sharpen - he'd landed on the right topic. Let's see where he could go with this.

"Professor Snape isn't...interesting?" Vector finally asked, when the silence had begun to drag on.

"Did I stutter?" Gabriel leaned back against the window, grinning slightly. "What, did you think I just straight up killed him? Nah. Quality entertainment. Or at least, he was."

"I don't suppose that means you'd be willing to bring him back," Sprout tried hopefully.

Gabriel gave her a look that said, _really_? "There's a point to all these tricks, you know. I'm waiting until the dear ol' professor pulls his head out of his ass and realizes what I'm trying to get through his head."

"So he will come back eventually." said McGonagall, looking relieved.

" _ Well..."  _ Gabriel let the word linger in his mouth. "It's been a while. He's getting boring. It's beginning to look like a lost case, honestly." And they were back to the tense atmosphere. "And who knows what could happen then." Gabriel put a hand to his chin in mock thought. "Sharks? I'm thinking sharks. Maybe sharknado. You ever see that movie? Don't. It was horrible."

He grinned at the horrified looks on their faces. "Don't be so dramatic. He'll survive." Gabriel paused. "Probably."

"You can't do that!" Gabriel turned towards the teacher who had made the outburst - unsurprisingly, it was the substitute Defense teacher.

"Actually," Gabriel grinned even wider, and Ackerly shrank back in her seat. "I can."

Absolute silence followed. None of the teachers seemed willing to draw his attention, and some of them seemed almost glad that he'd scared the shit out of the Ministry lackey.

Huh. Even the teachers didn't like her.

"If you'll excuse me," Gabriel said, hopping to the floor, "I've got places to be. Check ya later." He snapped his fingers, for reasons entirely unrelated to him vanishing.

He hoped they appreciated his redecoration properly.

* * *

 

By the next day the papers were already blaring headlines about how the Minister had been alerted to a problem at Hogwarts and was sending a team of Aurors to deal with it.

This was going to be  _ hilarious. _

They were bringing along some specialized kind of wizard called an ‘Unspeakable’, which everyone in the school seemed to think was a pretty big deal. Gabriel was intrigued; he’d heard from Ron that they worked someplace called the Department of Mysteries, which on its own was an alluring name. If they were being called in to deal with a Trickster, they were probably very good at whatever it was they did.

Still, however good these Unspeakables were, there would only be one of them, and that definitely wasn't enough to deal with Gabriel.

The dark-cloaked figure that Gabriel took to be the lone Unspeakable hovered in the back of most of their classes, mysterious and hooded. The Aurors, who did not wear hoods, seemed mostly useless and spent most of their time prowling in the background of the school, investigating every single corner they could find.

Despite the worries from Hermione and basically everyone else who had been at the Hog's Head that their club was in danger, there wasn’t much of a problem. They hadn’t had time to arrange their first meeting yet, and Hermione had made the executive decision to wait until it was less risky, so there was no illegal meeting to be discovered by anyone. Even if there had, Gabriel highly doubted the Aurors’ efficiency.

Things progressed in the same way - prowling Aurors, lurking Unspeakable - for a few weeks. Gabriel did his best not to give anything away, or give them any reason to suspect Harry Potter (the ability to create doubles sure came in handy from time to time). The issue came to a head only a few weeks after the Aurors made their initial appearance.

The Aurors, having gotten frustrated with their lack of progress and the fact that the things Gabriel left for them to find had gotten more and more mocking as time went on, had resorted to talking to students and looking for even the smallest hint that someone might unknowingly have of how to find the Trickster.

One of them, a pale, older man, had bypassed talking and gone straight into 'interrogation mode'.

"Look, kid, just tell me if you've seen anything!" The Hufflepuff he was talking to looked near tears, and out of the corner of his eye Gabriel noticed both McGonagall and two of the Auror's teammates moving towards him, with furious and concerned looks respectively.

Too slow.

Gabriel wasn't sure how observant they were, so he didn't snap but instead simply skipped the physical cue and went straight for his Grace, and the shouty Auror vanished instantly. The Hufflepuff startled violently, and a few scattered candy wrappers drifted to the floor in front of them.

The occupants of the hallway (an entire class's worth of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws) seemed to freeze and take a collective gasp before everyone exploded into motion.

Students hurriedly got out of the way of the other two Aurors, who were running toward where the third had vanished, one bending down to grab the wrappers off the floor. There was also one still-intact candy bar, with a long note attached which read 'Asshole Alert' in the fanciest calligraphy Gabriel had been able to muster in the few seconds he had to think of something good.

He really doubted that they'd ever think to look for the Auror in the Russian Antarctic research station.

"You sure that wasn't you?" Michael asked quietly as they were shunted to the side, more teachers arriving.

"Nah," Gabriel lied easily. "I was about to do something, though. The Trickster just beat me there."

"Honestly, I don't think the Aurors are going to help." Michael admitted. "Even Dumbledore was worried, you could tell."

Gabriel shrugged. "Well, maybe the Aurors will keep the Trickster distracted from everyone else."

That they certainly were - Gabriel had been having too much fun to even see what was going on with Snape. Speaking of which, maybe he should send the potions master some company.

Ah well. He'd just have to wait until another one of them did something worthy of retribution.

* * *

 

By dinner that day everyone was buzzing about the Auror, who was the only one so far to have vanished in front of witnesses. The Hufflepuff who had actually been right in front of the vanishing man was apparently a second year named Laura Madley, and she was absolutely swamped with requests to know what had really happened from anyone who wasn't there. The same was happening to anyone who had been in the hallway at the time, the rest of the school eager to know what had happened to make the Trickster act so blatantly.

The group of Aurors, now down to six, weren't at dinner, and when Gabriel actually looked that night he found them huddled together and whispering at the end of a corridor on the fifth floor. They probably considered it an out-of-the-way meeting spot; Gabriel thought it was a prime haunted house location.

Gabriel left the by-now usual double in his bed, in case anyone came by to check (there was no way to tell what the staff might do at this point) and proceeded to put into action what he hoped would turn out to be a complete raging mess of chaos.

That was the whole point of a Trickster, after all, and what sort of god of mischief would Gabriel be if he never caused anything big?

A door slammed down the hall from the group of Aurors and they all whipped around, wands at the ready. They peered into the darkness which the hallway was blanketed in, given it was nearly ten and the torches were burning low. The only light came from said torches on the wall nearest them, and whoever had their wand lit.

"Hello?" One ventured.

"Don't greet it you idiot what if something's actually out there." An obviously senior Auror smacked the one who had spoken first on the head, and as he did so four more doors burst open and then slammed. The group of six froze, looking around warily for the possible cause. Gabriel, watching invisibly, grinned around a conjured lollipop.

The same thing happened to the windows, as Gabriel created the illusion that they suddenly blew out. Glass shattered and scattered with intense force among the group, who all quickly drew their apparently cloaks over their faces. Gabriel frowned as the illusory glass simply bounced off.

"Where is it?"

"I don't know, Perkins, why don't you try doing your damn job and figure it out!"

Gabriel let loose the laugh he'd been holding in and the sound echoed eerily down the corridor, due to the effects he'd put in place earlier to generally make things a bit scarier than they would normally be.

"The damn thing is laughing at us!" The man in the middle seemed to swell with indignation. "You, Perkins - take these two and go see what's at the other end of the hallway." He gestured to two of the other Aurors as he spoke, and 'Perkins' hesitated before nodding and setting off, his two new lackeys following reluctantly.

Didn't they know that the number one rule of horror stories was to never split up?

* * *

 

Three hours later, there had been a lot of screaming, some truly horror-movie worth moments, an actual bad horror-movie romance moment between two of the Aurors (she slapped him and told him to grow up and concentrate on the damn job), and Gabriel was starting to get bored messing with them.

One odd thing was that Gabriel was sure there had been six of them earlier, but one of the six had vanished somewhere, managing to avoid the worst of the trick. Most likely they were the Unspeakable, because Gabriel was sure that they didn't teach 'negating trickster magic' in whatever pathetic training those Aurors got.

Looking closer in search of the mysterious sixth member provided no results.

Intrigued, Gabriel looked even closer, scrutinizing every facet of the school, but where there should have been one more person there was nothing. Interesting. He'd never encountered someone who could hide their very soul, and from an archangel no less. Gabriel pressed harder, letting his Grace blanket the nearby area to start off with, and heard a muffled noise behind him.

He turned around and saw nothing, only the shadows from the windows stretching across the entrance hall.

Frowning, Gabriel pressed harder, finding one specific spot that definitely felt like there  _ should  _ be something there, but there wasn't. These 'Unspeakables' didn't mess around, it seemed, but Gabriel was an archangel.

The Unspeakable didn't move physically once Gabriel ripped off their cloaking device, but he could practically feel them panicking. Weren't they ever taught not to broadcast their thoughts like that? But as soon as the thought occurred to  Gabriel, the stream of thoughts and emotion from the Unspeakable practically shut off.

"Hey," he said, grinning. "Nice of you to join the party. I was wondering where Ministry lackey number six had gone off to."

The Unspeakable stiffened slightly. "You enjoy playing with us?" Her voice was totally androgynous, and if Gabriel hadn't been able to see her soul then he'd have been hard-pressed to guess her gender.

"Kind of in the job description, sweetheart." Gabriel rolled the lollipop around in his mouth. "You know, that thing you used to hide yourself -  _ pretty  _ impressive! Mind if I ask why you thought it was necessary?"

"It's a requirement when facing an unknown entity," she stated, voice steady. Her face was hidden under the hood of her robe, which covered basically everything.

"And I'm an unknown." Gabriel considered her words. "I thought they brought you because you knew what you were dealing with."

"They think I do."

"And do you?"

"The Department of Mysteries has knowledge of many obscure areas."

Gabriel grinned. "Ah. The Department of Mysteries. The name itself invites a closer look." He spun around in the wheeled chair he'd snapped up for comfort. Maybe also because he liked spinning in them, but he'd never tell anyone that. "Do tell. I'm eager to hear about it."

There was a moment's pause before she replied. "Are you stalling?"

"Mmmaybe I am." Gabriel spun in another circle and then stopped, heels dragging on the floor. "Look. I've had my fun here. Your colleagues are boring me. And I can't think of anything decent for you - not that I'd want to, anyway, since you seem like a generally decent person and I'd say I don't fight women, but I've known too many women who could probably kick my ass."

"Where is this going?"

"Straight to the point. I like that. What I'm saying is, I can read the signs. So call this me offering...a favor, of sorts. Whatever you want."

She didn't drop her guard for a second. "A favor."

"No strings attached."

"Let me guess...in return, I look the other way while you leave?"

Gabriel shrugged, a small grin lingering on his face. "Something like that."

"I think I'll have to refuse."

"Now, why would you go and say something like that?" Gabriel sighed. "Look. I'm perfectly willing to be on my way with no casualties, even if you did ruin my first trick. Is it so much to ask that you try not to kill me on my way out?"

The Unspeakable paused. "What if I ask that you return Professor Snape as my favor?"

"Why on earth would you ask me to bring him back? I'm offering you anything, and you go for the potions master?" Gabriel pulled a face. "You're thinking small, sweetheart."

"No, I don't believe I am." The Unspeakable took a step forward. "How about I make a deal?"

Gabriel stood, discarding the chair, which quickly vanished. "Negotiations with the Trickster? That's playing with fire."

"I think I can handle it."

Gabriel let a grin spread over his face. "Excellent." He clapped his hands together, looking at her expectantly. "What are you angling for?"

"Two things," she said. "One, you bring back Professor Snape - unharmed."

"That's only one," Gabriel said, arching one eyebrow. "In exchange for what?"

"That's for me letting you go freely. The second condition is that you provide information on Tricksters for the Department files in case this happens again.  _ Truthful  _ information."

"In exchange for what, exactly?"

"Me keeping my colleagues out of your way."

Gabriel snorted. "Honey, I don't think they could stop me if they tried." He took a few steps forward, noting that the Unspeakable didn't take any backwards. "And let's say you could kill me-"

"I can," she said. "Oaken stake, with the blood of a previous victim - Madam Umbridge was all too willing once we told her what it was for."

Gabriel paused, then nodded, shifting on his feet like he was trying to discreetly go backwards. "Okay then. You've done your research. And you know what you want, obviously." How did these people keep finding out about Trickster weaknesses? Did they exist here, too? He couldn’t think of any other possibility.

"So what do you say?"

"No." Gabriel raised a hand to forestall any protest, though he couldn’t actually tell if she was about to. "To the second one only. I could keep out of the way of those muttonheads without your help, thanks very much."

"So you agree to the first term?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Why not." He raised his hand, dramatically slowly, and snapped his fingers.

* * *

 

Snape did return to his teaching position - Gabriel kept his word. The Auror contingent left soon after.However, Snape didn't show up to take over classes again until over a week later, and even then Slughorn continued teaching everyone under sixth year. Whispers abounded as to how he'd suddenly returned, or why the group of Aurors had left early that morning before anyone saw them, or how the Trickster had been kicked out of Hogwarts.

Gabriel feigned ignorance when Michael or Hermione asked him if he knew what had happened, because he'd been in the tower and why on earth would he be messing with a Trickster, Hermione, they're demigods at best and nothing really to worry about.

Occasionally, Gabriel wondered how they would react if they found out that he was the Trickster. But that particular train of thought never lasted long, because of course they wouldn't find out. The only way that would happen would be if they deduced it - say, if they met his sons, and the only way  _ that  _ would happen would be if they both miraculously morphed into two of the people Gabriel actually trusted enough to tell about the three boys.

Like that would ever happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No of course that's not foreshadowing. Why on Earth would you say something so ridiculous.


	43. Illegal Clubs and Other Incidents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! I am so glad I don't have much homework, because it leaves plenty of time for me to read through these chapters before I update.
> 
> Anyway. Moving past the Trickster now, but I promise there's plenty more to come before this year is over. I wrote this so long ago that I've begun to disagree with several of the ideas I had back then, but ah well. We can't have everything, and again, I'm preserving this in more or less the original format (pronoun corrections and spelling errors aside).

It was nearing the end of October before Gabriel managed to fix a specific time for the first meeting of their little defense club - or, rather, by the time it was safe and  Hermione and Michael finally agreed on a date and discreetly spread the news around.

Telling people that they were supposed to head to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to get to the Chamber probably caused a lot of double-takes and doubtful looks. Whether they believed it or not, though, all twenty-six people showed up that Wednesday and were summarily either shown to or shoved into the pipe which led to the chamber, Gabriel waiting by the sinks to close it behind them.

Waiting to close it, and also for member number twenty-seven.

"Why am I here again?" Draco eyed the pipe warily. It was like he didn't even trust Gabriel.

"I told you, our little student vigilante group." Gabriel waved him forward. "Come on, I promise it doesn't lead to a secret murder dungeon."

"That's not at all reassuring." Draco peered over the edge.

"I'm going to push you in if you don't get on with it."

"Alright!" Squeezing his eyes shut, Draco stepped over the edge and fell, landing on his stomach and sliding down headfirst with a yell.

"I could have told him that was a bad idea," muttered Gabriel, stepping onto the short ledge he'd created right in front of the entrance. " _ Close. _ "

The sink ground back into place as Gabriel slid down next to a disoriented Draco, easily standing and glancing around at everyone already down there.

"What the hell is he doing here?" asked Ron in outrage, pointing a finger at Draco as he got back to his feet.

"Oh, good, you," Draco sneered.

"Shh." Gabriel put a finger to Draco's lips. "No fighting or you'll both leave."

"But-" Ron began.

" _ Shh."  _ Ron shut up as Gabriel strode forwards so that he was standing in front of the crowd. "Okay, judging by the fact that you're all here, I'll assume you're all okay with having class down here."

"This is crazy," somebody muttered. "How did you even find this place?"

"A lot of luck," Gabriel answered, spinning around to face them, "And coincidentally, Moaning Myrtle, who you may know as the ghost who occasionally floods the bathroom above us, was all too willing to volunteer the location."

"How did  _ she  _ know?" asked a confused-looking Ravenclaw.

"Well I didn't ask, go find her yourself." Gabriel came to a halt from his meandering path in front of the group of students. "So. We all know why we're here. Why not get started?"

"Shouldn't we elect a leader first?" Hermione said, coming up next to Gabriel.

"Harry's leader," said a Ravenclaw girl who Gabriel faintly knew as being in his year. She was staring at Hermione like Hermione had just announced a desire to marry Ms. Norris.

"Well, yes," Hermione cleared her throat. "But I thought we should take a vote on it, to make it more official."

"More official?" Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "Hermione, we're meeting in a secret dungeon, basically, running an illegal club and learning things the government doesn't want us to know. I think official is the last thing we're going for, here."

Michael snorted and then immediately tried to pretend it wasn't nem as Hermione shot nem a fierce glare.

"I think we should have a name, at least." Ginny spoke up, and Gabriel doubted anyone else could see the current of nervousness running through her. There was a reason they hadn't gone on to the main chamber. He’d wait and see how well she fared in the room that used to contain the snakeskin.

"How about, 'The Ministry of Magic are Morons group?" Suggested a Gryffindor, the boy next to him rolling his eyes.

"Nah," scoffed someone else. "How about the Anti-Ackerly League?"

"That's stupid."

"What about Dumbledore's Army?"

Most people quieted down at that suggestion. Gabriel inwardly wrinkled his nose. Naming it after the headmaster? Really?

"I like it."

"Yeah, why not?"

_ Really? _

"Alright, then, Army it is." Gabriel clapped his hands together. "Anyway, we might as well start off since curfew's at nine and there's plenty to do. We'll start off with Expelliarmus-"

Zacharias snorted. "Disarming? Really?"

" _ Expelliarmus!"  _ Zacharias's wand was in Gabriel's hand in the blink of an eye, leaving the Hufflepuff staring at his empty hand.

"Alright, then," said Gabriel, a wand in each hand. "Attack me."

"What?"

"Go on. Attack me."

"You've got my wand," Zacharias protested.

Gabriel pointed the unfamiliar wand at him. " _ Exactly."  _ Several people laughed as they realized how Gabriel had tricked him, and Zacharias steamed, nearly dropping his wand as Gabriel tossed it back. 

"Going off of that," Gabriel said loudly, the stone room naturally enhancing his voice and echoing it slightly, "Disarming is fairly important. Why? Because no wizard gives a shit about learning how to defend themselves using nonmagical methods. Take their wands away, they'll be sitting ducks." He gestured at the silent group of students. "So will you, but we'll be covering more than just spells."

There were several groans. Gabriel scowled at them.

"Did no one see what just happened?" He asked loudly. "I Disarmed Zacharias and he was completely useless. What happens if a group of Death Eaters manages to get your wand? Or breaks it?"

Several people winced at the idea of their wand being broken. 

"I can guarantee," Gabriel said, "That whatever spells you learn here, the Death Eaters will know too. They all went to Hogwarts. And I know some of you are only here because you want to pass exams or whatever, but there's a war coming."

They were all listening to him with rapt attention, now, and none of them looked at all skeptical. Gabriel inwardly preened. Still got it.

"The people you might end up fighting aren't going to hesitate to murder, or dismember, or do anything that might cause you pain or harm. Most of them are vicious. A few of them are quite probably insane. And all of them are older and better trained than you." Gabriel allowed himself a broad grin. "I say we do our best to give ‘em a nasty surprise, what about you?"

* * *

 

Teaching went slowly.

Gabriel was occasionally frustrated by the time it took to teach children spells, but he kept it internal. He was used to far more grand and sweeping kinds of teachable statements - the Trickster, at his core, had been reminding people of the line between right and wrong. Teaching people basic morals, in a way, if by way of excessively pointed irony. His role as the Messenger hadn’t been so much teaching as it had been delivering information, but it was still his duty to make sure people understood those messages. 

Now, he was teaching humans (all under sixteen, largely) how to do spells he barely understood by utilizing magic that barely counted as his own.

Hermione and Michael carried much of the brunt of teaching that Gabriel didn’t bother to do. Blessedly, they were good at making up the deficit. Cedric, too, often paused in whatever he was doing to coach a younger student through a spell. He often mastered spells pretty quickly himself, so Gabriel didn’t tell him to concentrate on his own magic. Cedric was already pretty good. Gabriel began to understand why he’d been picked for the Tournament. 

Cedric also liked to try and talk to him. 

“It’s a good thing you’re doing here,” he told Gabriel at the end of their second meeting, as they were carefully dispersing in twos and threes. 

“Thanks,” Gabriel said, amused. “It  _ was _ mostly Hermione, though. I’m here for the ride as much as you are.”

“I wouldn’t say that. You’re teaching us-”

“So are you.”

Cedric shifted, looking faintly embarrassed. “I just want to help, that’s all. Expelliarmus and Stupefy aren’t too hard - I learned them fifth year.” He shrugged, smiling faintly. “Two years to master a spell is a lot of time.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Gabriel frowned as a thought occurred to him. “You’re in seventh year now, right? I thought you were seventeen last year.” He definitely would have noticed if  _ both  _ Hogwarts champions had broken past the Age line.

“I’ve got a late birthday, is all,” Cedric said. “Though I guess your seventeenth birthday is even later, huh?” He laughed, and Gabriel snorted.

“Just a  _ little  _ later.” Gabriel glanced around, and then stepped up into the pipe. “Better not delay, or we’ll be out after curfew. I hear Ackerly’s being intimidated by Filch into letting him decide detentions.”

Cedric grimaced, following him up. “I don’t know why Dumbledore keeps him on. Someone who’s in charge of helping take care of children shouldn’t be so enthusiastic about punishing them.”

“Well, he also hired Snape and Lockhart,” Gabriel pointed out. “He’s not exactly a paragon of good decisions.”

Cedric snorted. “Wish we’d had the DA while Lockhart was here. That was the only year I almost failed our exams.”

“The horror.” They both stepped out into the bathroom, which was by now relatively empty. A few people in various House colors were lingering by the doors, waiting to make an unobtrusive exit.

“ _ Close, _ ” Gabriel told the pipe, and turned around as the sink ground shut to find Cedric watching him curiously.

“You know,” Cedric said, “you never explained about the whole Parseltongue thing.”

“Should I have?” Gabriel glanced at the little snake scratched into the tap. It was still a terrible drawing, but he barely needed it anymore.

“Well, people have been talking - quietly, since nobody wants to say anything about the club - but combined with that old story about how you found the Chamber in the first place, there’s a lot of mystery surrounding you.”

“Just how I like it,” Gabriel said with a grin. Cedric smiled crookedly back.

“I suppose I’m curious, is all,” Cedric said. “It’s a very Slytherin trait.”

Gabriel thought, for a few moments, and gave Cedric a very penetrating look. He could say a lot of things, or end the conversation, or...

“I was almost Sorted into Slytherin, y’know,” he said eventually. “Very tense argument with the Hat.”

“Really?” Cedric looked surprised. “Why?”

“Guess it thought my particular brand of smarts was more along the lines of cunning than wit. Though I can’t say I see any definite difference between the two.” 

“Maybe it thought you would do better work in Ravenclaw,” Cedric suggested. “Is that why you brought Malfoy in?”

Gabriel considered that. “I don’t think so.” He’d never felt any kind of kinship with the Slytherin students, partly because he didn’t care and mostly because they were terrible people, at least when in public.

“Then why?”

Gabriel stuck his hands in his pockets. “I think,” he said, “that just because Malfoy’s got a terrible family, and his parents are probably working for Voldemort, that that doesn’t mean he deserves them or whatever they’re going to try and make him do. The club is my way of trying to give him some kind of choice in the matter.”

“You really think he’d choose  _ not  _ to go with his family?” Cedric sounded skeptical. He also had only barely flinched at Voldemort’s name.

“Might as well give him the chance and see whether he does or not, right?”

Cedric was looking at Gabriel like he’d just noticed some kind of bewildering facial feature.

“ _ I _ think,” he said, “that you’re a lot more generous than I could be.”

Gabriel’s mouth twitched into a smile. “You’re only human.”

“I guess so.” Cedric looked more surprised.

“See you at the next meeting,” Gabriel said, and waved him off cheerfully as he walked backwards towards the door. “I’ll look up some spells that might actually give you a challenge!”

If Cedric replied, he didn’t hear it. 

* * *

 

Shortly after the second meeting, Hermione came to Gabriel with a new innovation. Normally they decided the date and time of the next time they would meet at the end of their illegal club time, but she’d come up with a way to communicate any last-minute changes in the date, in the form of fake Galleons.

"See, normally the numbers on the side are just the serial numbers," Hermione explained as Gabriel examined one, "But on these they reflect the date and time of the meeting. Here, this one is yours, and if you change it all the other ones will vibrate and change as well, I've put a Protean charm on them-"

"A what?" One of the Ravenclaws was staring at Hermione in shock as the coins were distributed among the members (even to Draco, who people seemed to be  _ slightly _ warming up to, mostly because he hadn’t called anybody a slur or even a mild insult).

"A Protean charm," Hermione repeated.

"You can do a Protean charm?" Michael's eyebrows were somewhere in the vicinity of nir hairline. Even Cedric, who had taken a handful and was passing them out, paused to look impressed.

"Well, yes."

"But -" The first Ravenclaw looked a bit lost. "That's a NEWT level spell. You’re not even old enough to take your OWLs"

Hermione looked embarrassed. "Er - I suppose that’s true, yes."

"Pretty interesting spell," Gabriel put in, tucking his into his pocket. "Convenient, anyway. Thanks."

"You're welcome." Still blushing slightly, Hermione continued handing them out. "I suppose the only danger is that people will accidentally spend them-"

"I doubt it," Ron said, slightly mournfully. "I haven't got any real Galleons to confuse it with."

* * *

 

The week leading up to the first Quidditch match dawned as the first one in a year, due to the Tournament being cancelled last year.

It also dawned on the highest-running tensions since...well, since the Trickster had worked his magic. House rivalry was at its strongest, and several players ended up in the hospital wings due to 'stray' hexes or all-out fights springing up in the corridor. Absolutely nothing was off-limits.

It was fabulous.

Gabriel might not have been in Gryffindor or Slytherin, but he was still at Hogwarts.   _ Maybe _ a little bit of the Trickster had hung on inside him, because it was really amazing to see what could be done with that tension. Just  _ nudging  _ one person in the right direction could lead to a corridor full of toads and two seventh-years being dragged off to the hospital wing by a teacher angrily dishing out detentions to anybody who so much as looked like they might have been involved.

Michael might have gotten a little suspicious of how much trouble occurred in Gabriel’s proximity, but in any case Gabriel broke off the mild chaos before the game started - at least, any of it he was responsible for. It wasn't his fault the entire school was Quidditch-crazed.

Luna showed up at the Ravenclaw table the morning of the match in a lion's hat which roared rather realistically and copied her expression. It also gave the impression that it was eating her head. Gabriel raised his eyebrows in a silent question as she sat down across from him.

"Well, Ravenclaw's not playing, so I thought it would be a good idea to show support for Gryffindor," Luna said serenely. "I was going to have it chewing up a snake as well, to represent Slytherin, but I ran out of time."

It was rather impressive, considering that it was a magical hat made by a fifteen-year-old girl, but Gabriel was interrupted before he could say so as Michael sat down next to him, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Michael, you're going to wear a hole in the bench if you keep doing that." Gabriel folded his hands in front of his mouth to hide his amused expression.

"Come on, tell me you're not a little bit excited!"

"I'm not a little bit excited," Gabriel replied, completely deadpan. Luna giggled, and Michael glanced over at her, doing a double take at the hat.

"Where'd you get that?"

"I made it," Luna answered happily. "It turned out rather well, don't you think?"

"Yeah," said Michael after a moment. "You made that yourself? Wicked."

Luna beamed at nem. “Thank you very much.”

Michael, as usual, did nir absolute best to try and convince Gabriel to come down and watch the game with nem. Even Luna butted in to help nem once or twice. Gabriel’s bluffed threats of mild dismemberment and jinxes did nothing to faze nem, though Michael did give up on trying to physically move nem.

Gabriel conceded to walk down to the doors with nem and Luna, but he bid them farewell and good luck there. Michael stuck out nir tongue at him as the excited crowd swept down the hill towards the Quidditch stadium.

Gabriel just laughed, and went to go find something interesting to do. He was almost curious about the outcome of the game, now, but he’d spent four years not attending games. It would be terrible to break his streak now.

Interesting, however, seemed to temporarily be in short supply, and when Michael came back with the rest of the Ravenclaws Gabriel was sprawled out on one of the sofas in the common room and had been for the last hour or so.

"Gryffindor won!" Ne said.

"Congratulations," Gabriel replied dryly. "You know that’s not our House, right?”

Michael seemed unbothered by Gabriel's attitude as ne sat down in a nearby chair. "We haven't had a Quidditch game in ages," ne said.

"I know. That was the best part of last year - well, second to not having to take exams."

Michael frowned. "You're such a killjoy."

"I try."

"You know what happened?" Michael leaned forward as if imparting a great piece of wisdom. "You know Ron - well, apparently, he made Gryffindor keeper - that's like the goalie-"

"I know. Continue."

"Well, anyway, the Slytherins started singing this really rude song - they kept going for the entire game, actually, to try and unbalance Ron - it was all about him. And his family in general." Michael shook nir head. "Just mean, really, and they confronted a bunch of the Weasleys after the game and provoked them into a fight - Ackerly was all over that, of course, I don't know what she's going to do to them - of course she favors the Slytherins. Almost makes me wish the Trickster hadn't left."

Gabriel briefly contemplated granting Michael's wish, then decided against it. That would just lead to a load of unnecessary trouble.

"Hey." Michael had leaned over Gabriel. "Stop drifting off, would you? I hate when you don’t listen."

"I might not if you didn't tell such boring stories."

Michael shoved at his shoulder. “Don’t be mean.”

“It’s plain honesty!” Gabriel laughed. “Quidditch stories are boring. Throw some sports commentary in there, maybe some fun adjectives.”

“Would you listen to a replay of the game?”

“Probably not.”

“Then what’s the  _ point? _ ”

* * *

 

The only interesting thing that happened in the remaining weeks before Christmas break was the mysterious reappearance of Hagrid the day after the Quidditch game, who Gabriel almost hadn’t realized had been missing. Michael and Hermione, who both took Care of Magical Creatures, exchanged meaningful looks across the table the first time he showed up to a meal with fresh cuts and bruises all over his face. Gabriel guessed neither of them would leave the mystery alone - he was lucky that the investigative force Hermione alone brought to the table had never been focused solely on him.

Gabriel, though didn't take Hagrid's class and really had no reason to be concerned with the man, except for the said fresh bruises and cuts which were not nearly as discreet as he seemed to think they were. Hermione and Michael were concerned for him, and Gabriel was curious, but not curious enough to really get involved.

It was almost Christmas break, after all, and vacation meant time spent back at home with his family. He didn’t care about anything except how many days were left before the Express train back to London would leave.

Of course, two weeks or so without some kind of drama involving Gabriel was evidently too much to ask for.

Gabriel sat up in bed from where he was feigning sleep and playing mind games when someone knocked on the door to the dorm. Glancing around at his sleeping classmates, Gabriel swung his legs out of bed. The knocker pounded on the door harder as he crept across the room to open it.

It swung open to reveal a bewildered-looking Prefect.

"I don't know why, Harry," he said to Gabriel, "But there's a painting outside demanding that you come up to Dumbledore's office."

Several of his dormmates, who had also been woken up, glanced at Gabriel through sleep-muddled eyes in obvious confusion. Frowning, Gabriel retreated to his trunk and pulled on a dressing gown. "Someone in one of the paintings outside, you mean?"

"Yes - I'd hurry if I were you. It seems rather urgent."

Gabriel nodded curtly as he ducked past the Prefect, skipping the stairs entirely as soon as he was out of sight and appearing outside the blue door into the common room. A painting of a group of nymphs hung on the wall outside, but its usual occupants had been crowded to the side by witch with grey ringlets.

"Oh good," she said. "You'd better hurry. Someone might be dying."

_ Well _ then.

"What’s going on? Where?" Gabriel demanded, tying the sash on his dressing gown.

"Dumbledore’s office - quickly, follow me-"

"No need."

Gabriel vanished in a flutter of wings and took about three seconds to locate the office, noting that all of the Weasleys still at Hogwarts (as well as McGonagall) were in the office as well. He landed with a (semi-painful) flutter of wings, making them all jump.

"That painting's rather excitable," he said by way of greeting. "Who's dying?"

Ron flinched, and the twins looked rather green. Dumbledore just looked solemn. 

"Arthur Weasley has been attacked," he said gravely. "I thought I might ask for your help."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. Attacked? He felt a curl of anger in his stomach. Arthur Weasley had seemed like a genuinely nice man, from what little Gabriel had seen of him. He’d tried to warn Gabriel about Sirius Black. “I'm going to need a few more details than  _ that. _ "

"Dilys alerted me that something had attacked him while on guard duty," Dumbledore said, gesturing to a portrait whose occupant had vanished, leaving only some drab painted curtains. "I sent her to fetch you, as well as a few others to alert anyone they could find - I implore you, if you can get there first, take him to St Mungo's - it will avoid a lot of awkward questions."

"Okay, how about details like 'where is he' and 'where's St Mungo's'?" Gabriel suggested dryly. “I can’t go anywhere if I don’t know where I’m going.”

"Is now really the best time to be making jokes-" McGonagall began, stiffly furious. Dumbledore put up a hand to forestall her.

"St Mungo's is in London, several streets south from the Leaky Cauldron and on Charing Cross Road," he said calmly. "As for where he is-" Dumbledore sounded almost reluctant.

"Let me guess," Gabriel said after a second too long of silence. "It's a secret and you don't want them-" He gestured to the Weasleys, "-to know because it will ruin your delicate little plans to keep them safe."

Dumbledore looked severely down at him. He probably thought he looked intimidating. Well, to anyone else, he probably did.

"Look," Gabriel huffed. "You can either tell me or not. I could just go in and get it if you think about it-"

McGonagall put her hand to her mouth and looked about as scandalized as a person could get. Ron looked torn between horror and worry - his brothers and Ginny were in a similar state.

"You are capable of Legilimency?" Dumbledore asked in surprise.

"I have no idea what you just said but I'm going to guess it's related to mind-reading," Gabriel said, rolling his eyes. "Your decision, Dumbledore." Gabriel waved a finger back and forth. "Tick, tock. How long has Mr Weasley been there, exactly?"

Fred made and aborted movement, as though he were about to rush at Gabriel. Dumbledore started at Gabriel as though he were attempting to x ray him with only his eyes. Gabriel was going to inquire as to the point of the little staring contest when the thought of a location nudged at his mind.

"Got it," he said, snapping. "Back in a moment." And he vanished again, taking off and landing in London seconds later, underground and deep in the bowels of the Ministry of Magic.

So this was the Department of Mysteries.

Which meant that the man dripping blood all over the floor had to be Mr. Weasley - and even if Gabriel had come there by accident, he would have known right away by the shock of ginger hair.

There was something else on the floor.

Gabriel stomped hard on the snake as it coiled in preparation to strike one more time. The huge python hissed and writhed as it tried to escape from under Gabriel's foot. Gabriel absentmindedly crushed its spine as he leaned forward to examine Mr. Weasley. Only his superhuman senses let him whirl around and catch the scrap of grey before it escaped completely.

On the floor, the snake slumped, completely still. Gabriel ignored it, staring at the grey thing caged by his fingers.

"Well, well." he said amiably. "Voldemort. We meet again. Honestly, you're even more pathetic than the last time."

The scrap pulsed with something akin to anger and it struggled to escape, hissing and compressing back when white flashed and sparked as it brushed against Gabriel's fingers. It was not the same scrap that had possessed Quirrell, which Gabriel thought was also the one who had become the current Voldemort.  _ This  _ one was more similar to the diary he’d killed in second year.

It died pathetically easily, also just like the diary, dissipating in a slightly brighter flash. Gabriel dusted his hands off and leaned over Mr. Weasley again.

"Nasty wound," he muttered to no one in particular. He brought one hand up and let it hover over Mr. Weasley's torso before jerking it back sharply.

Mr. Weasley jerked convulsively as well despite the unconsciousness as Gabriel drew out the slightly greenish poison. It hung suspended in the air before Gabriel vanished it in a snap.

The redheaded man slumped against the wall again. Gabriel almost tried to pick him up before straightening.

"Right," he reminded himself. "Might start the blood flow again." Gabriel shook his head, glancing down at Mr. Weasley and putting his hands on his hips. "Humans are so damn fragile. It's a wonder they survived this long."

Letting out a breath, Gabriel brushed two fingers over Mr. Weasley's forehead. The wound didn't heal completely, but it did stop bleeding and shrink slightly. Dumbledore had said he'd already alerted other people, and it would be suspicious if they arrived to find Mr. Weasley completely fine.

Even so, Gabriel didn't restrain himself that much. Mr. Weasley wasn't a bad person, after all, and Trickster though he may be that didn't mean he was incapable of being nice.

Something moved in the hallway behind him and Gabriel's head snapped around to listen. Faint voices were coming closer, panicked-sounding and making no effort to be quiet.

That was his cue to go.

Gabriel reappeared in an office that was now empty save for Dumbledore, who whirled around at the noise. 

"Is he alright?" Dumbledore asked.

"He'll be fine," said Gabriel, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll assume you've sent the Weasleys off to bed?"

"No," Dumbledore replied. "Back to Grimmauld place, actually, to wait for news."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Well then. If they get to leave early, I suppose it doesn't matter if I head home myself."

"You plan to leave for Christmas break?" Dumbledore asked in poorly disguised interest.

"I'm an angel. That doesn't mean no social life." Gabriel plucked a piece of paper out of midair. "Here. Forwarding address, in case something else gets mucked up." Gabriel grinned, handed over the paper, and flew off again.

First stop, St Mungo's. Time to finish what he's started with Umbridge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh boy, Dumbledore. Now look what you've gone and done. 
> 
> Not that Gabriel not knowing where St. Mungo's was was going to stop him for very long, of course.


	44. Kids and Guests, Take Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how late this is, but I was honestly sorely tempted to just leave it for tomorrow, it's so late here. I'm really glad I have Monday off.

St Mungo's turned out to be a relatively well-hidden wizard hospital, but it was only too easy for Gabriel to find his way past the enchanted storefront and into the lobby of the hospital. It wasn't very crowded, late at night as it was, and Gabriel was easily able to slide up to the front desk, under the guise of a brown-haired white man.

A young witch was sitting behind it, going over a long list of parchment. "Can I help you?" She sounded vaguely irritated.

"You can." Gabriel grinned impishly, affecting an American accent. "I'm looking for a..." He pretended to check a notebook which he'd snapped up prior to entering the hospital. "Umbridge?"

The witch frowned. Her nametag said her name was Cordelia. "Madam Umbridge was checked out weeks ago."

"Darn." Gabriel grinned at her. He hadn't really expected Umbridge to still be there. "Any chance you could tell me where she might be?"

Cordelia looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "Is there a reason you're looking for her?"

Gabriel held his hands up. "Professional interest," he replied easily, withdrawing a fake ID and handing it over with a flourish. "That, and I've been assigned to get an interview with her by my boss, and I like keeping my job."

"I didn't know the news had spread to America," Cordelia remarked, her attitude relaxing as the tension bled out of her posture.

"She keeps an eye out for things like this," Gabriel 'explained'. "Runs a magical creature magazine, see, and Tricksters are pretty rare - at least, from what I've heard. Never knew about 'em before this assignment."

"Well, I'm sure Madam Umbridge will be all too willing to share," she said, rolling her eyes and sweeping the chair over to where a row of filing cabinets stood. Gabriel couldn’t see wheels, so the chair must have been enchanted. Convenient. "Honestly, I've never heard a patient  _ talk  _ so much - once she was up to it, of course, very nasty business." She glanced over her shoulder to where Gabriel was still leaning against the counter. "Sure you want to get involved?"

"I work for a magical creatures magazine," Gabriel repeated by way of answer. "Trust me, I've been up against some crazy stuff. My boss likes sending me on fieldwork. Besides, isn't this Trickster thing supposed to be gone now?"

"Well, I haven't heard any recent news, so I assume it's been dealt with. Ah, here it is." Cordelia pulled out a slim file. "I think...yes, here, she was discharged back in October. Most likely by now she'll be back at the Ministry, but in case she isn't you could try and see if they'll release her address." She swung back over to the main counter. "D'you know how to get into the Ministry?"

"Honestly? No clue," Gabriel laughed. "Never really had cause to come across the pond before - plenty to see and do in America, it being about ten times the size of this country."

Cordelia laughed with him. "I suppose I can't fault you for that - and the weather's not much good either." She pulled over a blank piece of parchment and plucked a quill from an inkpot which housed several, scribbling away in neat, curly handwriting. "The visitor's entrance is near here, actually, and you'll have to go that way because only employees know the Floo password."

"Thanks." Gabriel accepted the scrap she handed over. "I can't say much for the weather either - but I come from up north myself, so instead of rain we get a shitload of snow every year."

"Bad luck," Cordelia sympathized. "Still, at least snow you can shovel out of the way."

Gabriel shrugged, tucking the parchment into his front pocket. "Maybe. Thanks again for the directions." He turned to leave, only to be stopped by a shouted "Hey!"

Cordelia was holding out a blue card. "You forgot your ID," she said.

Gabriel made a show of reaching for his pocket. "Well," he said, taking it back, "Good thing you caught that!"

"You're welcome. Good luck with your interview."

"I think I'll need it, from what I've heard of the Ministry."

* * *

 

It wasn't that much harder to get into the Ministry.

"Not only is it ridiculous," Gabriel muttered, checking the directions again and glancing at the phone booth, "But it's not even decently protected."

No one inside the Ministry himself gave him a second glance, and in the plain robes Gabriel had disguised himself in he was practically camouflaged against the background of tired government workers. There was a large, ostentatious fountain in the center of the room the phone box deposited him into. Gabriel spared it a single, skeptical glance.

Umbridge was easy enough to find once he was in the building, however little contact he wanted with her soul, and flying into her office when she briefly stepped out was even easier.

"What - how did you get in here?"

"I'm sorry, but there wasn't anyone here and I thought I'd just wait and see if you came back."

"Oh - I see." Umbridge eyed him warily - Gabriel could sense glamour magic hiding almost everything that wasn't covered by her clothes. "Who are you, again?"

"I'm with an American journal on magical creatures," Gabriel repeated his earlier lie, standing up fluidly. "Got the news about the Trickster-" Umbridge flinched violently at the mention, but Gabriel continued on. "-And I got ordered over here to find out what happened."

"I see." Umbridge looked torn between reluctance and eagerness to tell her side of the story to someone who would actually listen. "Well, sit down, why don't you. Tea?"

"No thanks." Gabriel closed the door for her as Umbridge sat down, a broad grin spreading across his face. He'd always disliked people who managed to escape his traps.

* * *

 

Gabriel got home late that night.

It was almost exactly a whole day after he’d left Hogwarts. He stepped inside, and found Fenris on the sofa that offered the clearest view of the front door, dead asleep and slumped over on his side, having obviously fallen asleep waiting. 

Gabriel smiled, and closed the door as quietly as he could. The carpet cushioned his footsteps, and Fenris barely stirred when Gabriel gently pried him up and into Gabriel’s arms. Fenris turned his head in his sleep, sniffed, and kicked Gabriel gently in the hip.

Someone had turned off a few of the lights, so the hallway was only illuminated by light from the kitchen and from at its other end. Gabriel walked slowly, not wanting to wake Fenris, but as he passed the kitchen someone made a soft noise of surprise that made him pause.

Sigyn was in the kitchen, wiping her fingers off on her pants. She was holding a mug with what looked like tea dripping down the sides. Gabriel quickly realized what had happened; she’d seen him, startled in surprise, and sloshed her drink around.

“It’s  _ midnight, _ ” Sigyn hissed.

“Sorry,” Gabriel whispered back. “Got caught up with other things.” Umbridge hadn’t taken too long, but he’d had to wait until a reasonable and not busy time to approach St. Mungo’s, then find the Ministry and enter it, then find Umbridge and wait for her to get back,  _ then  _ make sure nobody would find her until he’d gotten away, et cetera, et cetera. 

Sigyn rolled her eyes and sipped from her mug, turning away from him. Gabriel should have moved on, but he hesitated.

“Goodnight, Sigyn,” he said, and then left. She didn’t follow him. 

* * *

 

A few days later, there was someone at the gate of the house.

Which was weird, because Sigyn had left and this seemed rather early for her to return, everyone else was either inside or in the yard with Gabriel.  _ He  _ hadn't invited anyone over.

The momentary lapse in attention gained Gabriel a snowball in the face, sending Slepnir and Jormungand into a fit of giggles.

" _ Good aim, _ " Gabriel called, wiping snow off his face. Fenris threw one back which missed, in part because Slepnir moved and partly because the snowball fell a couple feet short. " _ Give me one second, I need to take a strategic retreat. _ "

The three boys continued to eagerly toss snowballs at each other as Gabriel walked towards the fence, seeing with surprise a swarm of redheads. How had the Weasleys ended up at his gate? 

...Oh, right. He'd given Dumbledore his address. He’d expected a  _ letter,  _ not a horde of Weasleys. Why would they come here?

"Something the matter?" Gabriel asked, coming closer to the fence. He noticed that Mrs. Weasley bore a large basket, which must have been magically lightened to let her carry it so easily. Most of them were staring up at the house or at the kids in interest.

"No, nothing's wrong,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I was only wondering if I’d got the right address - oh, you haven’t met Bill, have you? This is Bill, my oldest.” The one unfamiliar Weasley nodded at Gabriel.

"Hi. So your visit is for..." Gabriel trailed off, leaning against the gate as he waited for an answer.

"We wanted to say thanks," Ginny said. "You know, for helping our dad." The twins nodded seriously, which was just weird. Gabriel hadn't ever seen them  _ not  _ making a joke.

"Oh." Well, that still didn’t explain the basket. "You really didn’t have-"

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Weasley cut Gabriel off. "You saved his life, and we already owed you once because of Ginny-"

"Well-"

"And," Mrs. Weasley powered over Gabriel's objection, "It's because I wanted you to have something for the holidays, since I-" 

_ " _A_ ren't you going to keep playing? _ " Fenris demanded, reaching up to tug on Gabriel’s sleeve and not sparing a glance towards the Weasleys, who were all looking at him in various states of surprise and confusion.

_ " _Su_ re I am. I told you, I needed a break _ ," Gabriel replied, shifting as he turned towards Fenris so that he was slightly in between him and the Weasleys. _"_ _ You can keep playing on your own, you know. _ "

_ " _B_ ut Slepnir cheats. _ "

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. _"_ __Do_ es he? Then cheat back. _ "

"Who's that?" Fred asked, seemingly getting over his stupefaction. Gabriel turned back to the Weasleys with a curious Fenris still attached to his arm.

_ " _Who'_ re they? _ " Fenris questioned.

_ " One at a time, _ " Gabriel said, putting a hand on Fenris's head. "Why do you ask?"

"Since when do you have kids?" Michael asked, staring at Fenris. Mrs. Weasley looked like she would rather know the answer to that too.

Fenris tugged sharply on Gabriel's sleeve again. _"_ _ Fa-ðiiiiiiiiiiiiir,"  _ he whined.

"Okay, you know what?" Gabriel whirled around and picked Fenris up in one smooth move, making him shriek and finishing the turn so that he ended up looking at the Weasleys again, perfectly calm with a seven-year-old (technically) in a thick winter jacket on his hip.

"You might as well come in," he said reluctantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help but have the Weasleys show up...and the kids are too adorable to put off writing them any further.


	45. Magic and Night Terrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I think Mrs. Weasley and Gabriel would clash over his kids if they ever compared parenting styles in detail, since she's obviously a much stricter parent than he would ever be. I imagine if Fred and George had done anything like the sand sofa incident, there would have been a lot of yelling.
> 
> Gabriel's very laid back when it comes to the kids. As long as it involves 'the kids doing something' and not 'someone doing something to the kids'. Then that 'someone' is super fucked.

There was no chance for the Weasleys to ask the questions they were obviously dying to in the hallway, what with three (technically preteen) pagan boys running around and shucking off their winter gear. This didn't prevent any of them from trying, though, resulting in several near collisions and Gabriel having to quickly make himself busy helping Fenris get his boots off or stuffing coats into the nearest closet to keep them off the floor where they were inevitably dropped, no matter how many times he reminded the boys.

Things only calmed down when the group all settled in the kitchen, Gabriel moving around the counters in the familiar routine of making hot chocolate - even though he could have snapped some up in an instant, it was a routine they were all familiar with, and even Gabriel had to admit that when he took the time to make it, it did taste a little better.

He was also keeping half his attention on the people sitting at the table (and sitting at the counter, and leaning faux-casually against the wall) behind him, since even though he did (sort of) trust the Weasleys it was really the first time the boys had properly met anyone outside their own family since they'd gotten back.

"So, er," It was Ron who finally broke the silence. "You had kids?" He sounded more than a little incredulous.

"No need to sound so surprised." Gabriel said while digging in the cabinet for mugs. He may not have been eager to share the news of his kids' existence, but there was no point stonewalling the Weasleys now that they did know.

"Really?" Ginny didn't sound any less surprised. "I mean - they do look sort of like you-"

"You mean they look similar to Harry Potter," Gabriel corrected her. "Believe me, I looked nothing like this when they were born."

"Three boys," Mrs. Weasley said, scooting the basket over on the table so that it was more off to the side. "That must be difficult, especially with you at Hogwarts for most of the year." A very obvious fish for information.

"Not really," Gabriel shrugged, taking a drink from his own mug. "I mean, it sucks that I'm not here most of the time, but they're not fending for themselves or anything."

"So who takes care of them, one of your brothers?"

Gabriel tried not to laugh. He really did. He covered his mouth when Mrs. Weasley started to look offended. “Sorry - I was just trying to picture one of  _ my  _ siblings with these three.” At best, it would be a disaster.

“They’re not good with kids?” Bill asked. He was the one casually leaning against the wall, having been beaten to all of the seats by his younger siblings.

“Eh - if Balthazar shows up, you’ll see what I mean. My younger brother,” Gabriel added, remembering that they’d never met Balthazar. “He’s...a character.”

“Sounds like Bill,” Fred said cheerfully.

“Yeah, a real character, our Bill.” George jumped in.

“Out breaking curses-”

“Exploring pyramids-”

“Alright, enough,” Bill interrupted, smiling faintly. Fred and George dissolved into snickers. “I don’t think he wants to talk about my job.”

“Actually, I’m intrigued if that’s what your job entails,” Gabriel said. “By that, and this large basket.”

“Oh, that’s for you,” Mrs. Weasley said briskly. “I made some fudge, and some more savory things, too.”

“Huh! Thanks.” Gabriel meant it, too. He didn’t often cook for himself, but the kids needed things more solid than illusory food, and he didn’t have a huge repertoire. He often came home to find the pantry full of from-the-box mixes, but he didn’t have very many other options. 

“It’s the least we could do.”

Gabriel smiled at her as he flipped open the basket lid to take a look inside. “I’m not complaining, but I’m really not in the habit of leaving people to die.”

“Regardless,” Mrs. Weasley said firmly, “I wanted to show that we were - well, incredibly grateful for the intervention. I don’t know if he would have made it to St. Mungo’s without your help.”

Gabriel tried to remember if Mr. Weasley died in the books. He had no idea, and gave up on it after a few moments. “Is he still in the hospital?”

“Not for much longer.”

A sharp tug at his sleeve derailed Gabriel's conversation, and he looked down to see Fenris holding out an empty mug. 

_ " _I_ t's gone, _ " Fenris said pointedly.

_ " Yeah, that happens when you don't have an unlimited supply. " _

_ " I want more. " _

_ " If you have more now, then there will be less later. " _

_" _No_ there won't,_ ” Jormungand objected, _“ you'll just make more."_

_ " That doesn't mean you can have as much as you want. " _

_ " _I'm_ out, too, _ " Slepnir helpfully supplied, nudging over his own empty cup.

_ " _E_ veryone gets more? _ " Fenris looked up hopefully.

Gabriel surveyed the three expectant faces, pretending not to see the Weasleys watching in confusion. _"_ __T_ ell you what, _ " he decided, "Rock-paper-scissors.  _ Winner gets what's left of mine. _ "

Jormungand immediately turned to face Slepnir. "Ready?"

"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"

"Noooo!”

"Ha!" Slepnir smacked his fist lightly on top of Jormungand's 'scissors'. Ginny was mimicking the shapes slowly, frowning to herself, and Bill appeared to be listening closely.

_ " My turn! _ " Fenris wiggled onto Jormungand's lap to reach Slepnir. "Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"

They both spread their hands wide.

Fenris looked at the matching 'paper's, then back at Gabriel. _"_ _ What now? _ "

_ " It's a tie, so you all get some. _ " Gabriel had already distributed his remaining no-longer-quite-as-hot chocolate between the other three mugs while they were busy, and Fenris nearly fell off the chair getting to his.

_ " Whoa, careful! _ " Gabriel hoisted Fenris onto his lap, dragging his cup over. _"_ _ I have never seen someone get that excited over hot chocolate. " _

_ " _It's not reall_ y that hot anymore. _ " Slepnir downed his share anyway, glancing over at the Weasleys in curiosity as he put it down. _"_ _ And you never told us who they were. " _

_ " I didn't? They're friends f rom my school. _ _"_ Gabriel glanced at Mrs. Weasley. _"_ _ Well, most of them. _ "

"I'm feeling a bit left out of this conversation," Ginny commented.

"I could cast a translation spell if you like," Gabriel offered.

“Do they not speak English?” Ron asked.

“We’re working on it,” Gabriel said, shrugging.

“ _ Slow down, _ ” Jormungand said, frowning.

“What’d he say?” Bill asked.

"He says you talk too fast for him to understand." Gabriel answered. "Like I said, we're still working on English."

_ " I wanna play a game, _ " Jormungand announced, sliding off his chair and ducking around the still-open door into the living room. Fenris started wiggling on Gabriel's lap in a clear attempt to get down.

_ " Use your words, Fenris. _ " Gabriel let him slide off his lap, and Fenris eagerly followed his older brother out of the room while Gabriel looked at Slepnir. _"_ _ You going too? _ "

"Yeah." Slepnir deposited his cup in the sink before leaving as well. Gabriel glanced at the Weasleys.

"I'm gonna warn you now, game night can get pretty intense so you might want to sit some of these out."

“Now I’m interested,” Fred announced. “What kind of games? Lead the way!”

* * *

 

Gabriel couldn't say he hadn't warned them.

By the time they left the entire group looked a bit frazzled. Considering that there had been several incidents of magical interference, the card games had been rife with cheating, and at one point someone (aka Slepnir) had 'accidentally' caught the board on fire when he'd guessed wrong in Clue, Gabriel also didn't blame them for that.

Of course, game night had also led to demands that the Weasleys be invited back over for Christmas.

"Why?"

_ " _I_ like them. _ " Fenris was draped over Gabriel, fiddling with a mess of tinkertoys he'd cobbled together.

_ " _So_ we should invite them over? _ "

_ " _You_ said they were your friends. _ " Slepnir didn't even look up as he commented, totally absorbed in his own creation. _"_ _ Wait, no - Jor, it's gonna fall over if you put that on top! _ "

_ "You said I could help." _

_ "But you're doing it wrong!" _

_ "Okay, I think it's time for bed." _ Gabriel picked up Fenris as he stood, taking the Tinkertoy creation and putting it to the side. The fact that Fenris simply burrowed into his shoulder was enough of an indication that it was bedtime for him, at least.

" _ I'm not tired, _ " Jormungand said quickly.

" _ Okay then. _ " Gabriel yawned and stretched theatrically, grinning as both boys on the floor stifled yawns of their own. _"_ _ But you look pretty tired to me. _ "

" _ That's cheating, _ " Slepnir protested, the last word fading out as he tried to catch another yawn.

" _ Uh-huh. Bedtime. _ "

* * *

 

_ " _I_ want a magic lesson. _ "

Gabriel tilted his head back to properly look at Jormungand. He was lying on the sofa with his legs propped up against the back, a runes book held in one hand over his face. " _ Magic lessons, huh? What for? _ "

Jormungand’s arms were stubbornly crossed. " _ You keep saying we're not supposed to do magic on our own but you never teach us anything and most of the time you're not here to watch us. _ "

" _ Very convincing, _ ” Gabriel said, smiling. “ _ Anything in specific you wanted to learn? _ ” Jormungand and Fenris knew rudimentary magic already. There wasn’t any harm in learning more.

Jormungand’s expression changed in an instant, arms dropping to his sides. " _ Really? You will? _ "

" _ Why not? _ " It's not like anyone else was in the house to remind him what a bad idea it was. Now that Gabriel thought about it, Vali and Narvi being gone might have been one of the reasons the three boys had been so fidgety lately, since they were used to their brothers being around most of the time.

Jormungand whooped and ran out of the room. " _ He said yes! _ "

Gabriel grinned, swinging his legs to the side and sitting up as three expectant boys tumbled into the room, all bearing broad grins. " _ Looks like you guys planned this one out. _ "

" _ I wanna do illusions, _ ” Fenris said immediately.

" _ Hold on, Fenris, I don't think we got that far. _ " Gabriel moved to the floor, letting his legs spread out in front of him, and Jormungand moved to mirror his position. " _ Let's see, what do you remember learning last? _ "

Fenris looked at Jormungand, who looked at Slepnir, who shrugged and looked at Gabriel. " _ I don't know. _ "

" _ Well, we'll start of easy, since you guys haven't used it in a while. _ " Gabriel raised a fist and let the fingers spread theatrically slowly, sparks spilling out between them and vanishing before they hit the carpet. 

“ _ I want to do that, _ ” Slepnir said, looking eager.

“ _ Slowly, Slepnir, _ ” Gabriel said. “ _ Magic is complicated, remember? Real illusions and such are powerful magic. That’s different from rituals or herb spells- _ ”

“ _ Or angel magic? _ ”

Gabriel froze, staring at Slepnir. The sparks sputtered and died. “ _ Who told you that? _ ”

“Sigyn.” Jormungand nodded as Slepnir answered. 

“Why?” Of  _ course  _ it had been Sigyn. Why should he have expected otherwise.

_ “I asked her why she didn’t like you. _ ” Slepnir fidgeted, evidently picking up on how not thrilled Gabriel was.  _ “I - I remember leaving with you, but you never really said why she wanted you to leave, or why Vali and Narvi stayed with her- _ ”

_ “I get it, Slepnir. _ ” Gabriel resisted to rub his forehead. He didn’t get headaches, but he could feel one developing anyway. Headaches were pervasive like that.  _ Why  _ did Sigyn have to drop something like that on the kids without even warning him about it? Granted, it was an entirely Sigyn thing to do, but he didn’t have to like it.

_ “Was she telling the truth?”  _ Jormungand asked. 

Gabriel looked over the three of them, and sighed very heavily. Internally. He should’ve known it would happen eventually.

_ “What did Sigyn tell you, exactly?”  _ He asked.

_ “She said you were just pretending to be Loki,” _ Fenris said.  _ “That you were really an angel called Gabriel. _ ”

_ “Just that?” _ He’d expected her to embellish at least a little.

_ “Well-”  _ Slepnir looked embarrassed.  _ “There were some other things, but Vali said it wasn’t all necessarily true, because since Sigyn was mad at you it makes her make it sound worse than it was. _ ”

...He hadn’t expected  _ Vali  _ to intervene. Narvi, maybe. 

_ “Is it true?”  _ Jormungand asked again.

_ “I don’t think I was ever  _ _ pretending _ _ to be Loki,”  _ Gabriel said evasively.  _ “I am Loki. I was for a while.”  _ But...  _ “But I was Gabriel first, for a long time, so, yeah.” _

__ The three boys glanced at each other, as if gauging everyone else’s reaction. Gabriel braced himself.

_ “And Balthazar’s an angel, too, and that’s why he’s here,”  _ Slepnir said.

_ “It’s a little more complicated than that, but yes.” _

__ _ “Is that why you look different?”  _ Fenris piped up. 

“Yeah.” Gabriel rubbed his chin awkwardly. He hadn’t realized it had been such a stark difference from before. How much more obvious had his angelic traits been?

_ “How does that work?”  _ Slepnir was frowning.  _ “Are you both? I don’t think you can be both. How does an angel become a god?” _

__ _ “Aw, Slepnir, it’s complicated, alright? I thought you guys wanted to learn magic.” _

__ _ “Yes, but-” _

__ _ “I know a cool way to make colorful fire and smoke,”  _ Gabriel coaxed. Slepnir perked right up, the little pyromaniac. 

_ “How? _ ”

_ “First we’re gonna need some things. Do any of you know if there’s any copal in the house?” _

* * *

 

It took a while to get his hands on all the necessary ingredients; there was no copal in the house, though Gabriel hadn’t really expected there to be. Still, he improvised with what he had, warned the three kids never to copy him, and gave it a secretive little splash of Grace to make sure the mixture reacted right.

Then he told them the right words to say, gave them some bits of flint to make a spark, and sent them all out into the yard to have fun with the stuff while he watched from the back porch steps to make sure nothing would accidentally be burned down.

It was probably a good thing the house was warded and the backyard surrounded by tall trees, because all the magic being performed that night would have definitely freaked out the neighbors.

Gabriel leaned out of the way of a rocket-like burst of sparks, orange and red sputtering out as it hit the railing on the back porch and left a black mark. Gabriel repaired it almost absentmindedly.

_ " I hope no one's getting maimed over there! _ " He called out.

_ " We're okay! _ " Slepnir had taken to the spell like a house on fire - which was why Gabriel was here, or else that metaphor might become reality. His oldest had always had a way with fire spells, and it seemed like this simpler one was no exception.

A fountain of yellow sparks shot up from a bowl into the sky in an imitation of fireworks and Jormungand gleefully lit another one, adding a rocket of blue. The two colors mingled, creating the illusion of green. Gabriel grinned at the sight, raising his hand and bringing the makeshift firework closer to the ground so it didn't escape the wards. "Fenris, are you just going to let them do something that cool on their own?"

Fenris whooped and leaped across the lawn, trailing a dark emerald green in his wake. It probably wasn’t the greatest idea to  _ hold  _ the stuff, but as long as he didn’t burn himself it was fine. The backyard was a riot of color noise, magic flashing between the three boys and occasionally Gabriel himself, when he joined in to send the fireworks in the right direction or stop them from doing anything to crazy.

Considering neither of the three boys had used magic in at least seven hundred years, they had a surprising amount of energy, but not even nonhumans could use magic indefinitely. Gabriel put a halt to the display before they got too wrung out, but even so there was little protest as he chivvied them back inside.

Slepnir crashed on the sofa and Jormungand and Fenris seemed all too willing to follow suit, so Gabriel flew them all up to his bed and let his sons wriggle under the covers, tangling up with each other in the way that they always seemed to end up sleeping, like they were afraid the others might vanish in the night if they weren't touching each other.

It was a sad, but perfectly reasonable, fear, considering they'd only reunited last year.

All three of them were also determinedly wrapped around Gabriel in some way. Fenris was sprawled over Gabriel's chest in what had become his customary sleeping spot, and Jormungand kept one hand on him. It might have been because of the same fear, or maybe they just liked company when they slept, but either way Gabriel wasn't about to insist that they stop.

There was, however, one downside.

Gabriel was abruptly woken up when someone kicked him in the ribs. Jormungand was clutching him in his sleep, brow creased and eyes squeezed shut. Gabriel immediately tried to tuck him closer, but the simple movement caused Jormungand to gasp and sit bolt upright.

"Jor, shhh-" Gabriel's hasty whisper didn't seem to help, and Jormungand swallowed thickly and then buried his face in Gabriel's shirt.

_ "Hey, hey, it's alright. _ " Gabriel reached carefully over Fenris to hug Jormungand.  _ "It's just a dream, Jor, you're fine. _ "

Jormungand was taking deep, gasping breaths, making little sobbing noises. Gabriel put a hand on his back, rubbing it up and down. _"_ _ Breathe, Jor, you're fine, I'm right here. _ "

It was a miracle Slepnir and Fenris hadn't woken up, even though the latter had rolled away from the commotion and off Gabriel in his sleep to nestle up against his oldest brother instead.

Jormungand was clinging to Gabriel, his hands fisted in the latter's shirt where a spreading wet patch could be seen.  _ "Jor, sweetheart, it's alright, it was just a dream. _ "

Almost imperceptibly, Jormungand shook his head. Gabriel's stomach dropped. A memory? But he’d thought-

No, he should have known. There was no reason for the magic to have made them lose their memories in the first place. The more that magic faded, the more they would probably remember.

He hugged Jormungand closer and ran a hand through his curls, making shushing noises despite the momentary panic he'd gotten.  _ "You're alright, Jor, everything's okay now. _ "

"Not Móðir," Jormungand hiccuped, and Gabriel felt as though his insides had frozen. 

Jormungand wrapped his arms around Gabriel harder when Gabriel didn't answer. "Faðir?"

Gabriel let out a long breath, but didn't say anything right away. Jormungand looked up with a tearstained face, sniffling and wiping an arm across his cheeks. 

_ "I thought-" _ Jormungand's voice broke and he took a deep breath, and his hands felt like they were about to rip Gabriel's shirt in two.  _ "She...Móðir...she's not going to come back, is she?"  _ Jormungand's voice was shaky, but he kept going.  _ "She's-" _ He started sniffling uncontrollably again, breath coming in hiccups, unable to say it.

Gabriel leaned forward so that his forehead was resting on Jormungand's. His eyes were closed when he spoke, because he didn't think he wanted to see the expression on his son's face.  _ "I'm sorry."  _ His voice came out as a ragged whisper.

There was an answering sniffle, and Jormungand returned to squeezing Gabriel's chest nearly hard enough to bruise. Someone echoed the sniffle and Gabriel realized it was coming from the side of the bed Slepnir and Fenris were on. Glancing over revealed that a wet-eyed Slepnir was curled protectively around Fenris, who was sniffling into his sleep shirt. They had obviously overheard the conversation.

"Oh, sweetheart." Gabriel pulled both of them towards him, turning the four of them into a huddle in the middle of the bed. "Shh, shh." The worst part was that he couldn't say anything that would reassure them, because what could he possibly say that would help? For them, it had been barely a year ago.

_ "I'm sorry," _ Gabriel said again, wishing that somehow taking the blame could fix this whole disaster, but time was not so easily changed, especially not with just two words from a lonely angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um
> 
> Sorry?
> 
> Review please?


	46. Christmas and A Discussion of Old Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...sorry about the angst for last chapter, but there had to be *some* fallout from what happened to them.
> 
> Anyway *cough* moving on from the sadness of the last chapter! I promise there's some more lighthearted stuff to be found here...unless something changes while I'm writing but I'll try not to become George R R Martin here.
> 
> There was probably a better comparison I could have used but he was the first evil author that popped to mind.
> 
> A reminder that italics are people speaking in Old Norse!

If Vali and Narvi noticed anything in particular the following day, or the days after that, they didn't say anything. Not about Jormungand being even quieter than usual, or Fenris trailing them around all the time, or Slepnir being a little more insistent on keeping his brothers within view.

They didn't say anything to Gabriel, either.

What Vali did say was fairly innocent.

"Hey, Slepnir,  _ isn't your birthday coming up?" _

Slepnir brightened instantly.  _ "Hey! It is!" _

Gabriel swung around on his chair to face the room as a whole, seeing his oldest son looking expectantly at him.  _ "So it is. Did you forget it was December?" _

_ "No." _

_ "Hey," _ Fenris said, grinning in a way that was all Gabriel,  _ "Your birthday's on Christmas." _

_ "Really?" _ Narvi ruffled Slepnir's hair, ignoring the whine of complaint.  _ "Maybe we should give you Christmas presents instead of birthday ones." _

Slepnir looked so scandalized at the idea that Gabriel started laughing.  _ "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll all get cool stuff anyway." _

_ "We should have a party," _ Jormungand said quietly, making Vali look at him in surprise - he hadn’t spoken since before they’d left.

"Yeah!" Slepnir stood up, bouncing off the sofa where he'd been sitting.  _ "A double party!" _

_ "Double party?"  _ Narvi questioned.

_ "For Christmas, too."  _ Slepnir said it like it should have been obvious.

_ "Can't have a party without guests."  _ Gabriel leaned on the back of his chair, humming in thought.  _ "Who would we invite, though?" _

"The Weasleys."

"The Weasleys?  _ Why? _ "

Slepnir shrugged.  _ "I like them. And we don't know anyone else." _

He had a point there, Gabriel thought ruefully. The kids hadn’t had much chance to make friends in the current year. And playground friends couldn’t exactly be invited over, since their parents would have to come too, and Gabriel wasn’t explaining how things worked in his house to some random couple.

"What about Hel?" Vali suggested hopefully. Also a reasonable suggestion, considering he'd met his sister a grand total of twice.

"I'll see if I can contact her." As Hel was currently making up for lost time and could be literally anywhere around the globe (except in the oceans, but even that was a possibility) trying was about as good as Gabriel could do.

_ "Cake too," _ Slepnir insisted.

_ "You want to invite cake?" _

"Faðir!" Slepnir threw a pillow at Gabriel, who didn't bother dodging and let it bounce off his face.  _ "No! Cake as in for eating!" _

_ "I know, I know!" _ Gabriel said with a wide grin.  _ "Of course we'll have cake, what kind of party would it be without any cake?" _ He paused, remembering the kinds of cake Slepnir would remember, which were nothing like the kinds they had today.  _ "What kind do you want?" _

_ "Isn't there just one?" _

_ "Slepnir, allow me to introduce you to some of the wonders of the modern world. There are so many kinds of cake." _

* * *

 

Gabriel garnered several important things from the reply letter the Weasleys sent. Yes, they were coming, and so were the two oldest brothers if that was alright, Bill and one Gabriel hadn’t met. Yes, they would bring something along. And, according to a small warning footnote from Ron, Mrs. Weasley was determined to contribute at least half of Christmas dinner and enough sweaters to outfit an army.

In hindsight, he probably could have expected that this would happen. Mrs. Weasley seemed to have thoroughly gotten over whatever dislike she held for him when the Order found out that he was Gabriel and not Harry. If that was because of his children, that was fine with him.

In any case, time relentlessly marched forward and in what seemed like very little time the house was flooded with guests and family members.

Arthur Weasley had greeted Gabriel with a handshake and very sincere thanks, which Gabriel brushed off and Slepnir peered around him at the three unfamiliar Weasley men.

_ "You said to invite the Weasleys, didn't you?” _ Gabriel asked him, when Slepnir hid behind him.  _ “They all came. You can’t just invite some." _

Gabriel had taken the liberty of inviting Michael and Hermione as well, clearing it with Slepnir first since it was his birthday after all. They were greeted exuberantly by Fenris, who had shown up to the door to see what was taking so long and promptly dragged the both of them into the living room to show off the tree.

The tree had taken about five hours to decorate, which Gabriel blamed on the fact that everyone had insisted on decorating it a certain (different) way, and everyone  _ else _ blamed on him buying one that big because  _ it barely fits in the living room! _ They’d managed it eventually, but it had been an ordeal.

It certainly seemed to leave and effect on Hermione, who stared and then shook her head. "Of course you'd have a huge tree."

Michael had stopped at the sight of Vali and Narvi. "Hey, weren't you two at Hogwarts during the Tournament?"

"The tail end of it," Narvi replied from his position lounging on the couch, waving lazily. "Hi again, by the way, I don't think we were ever properly introduced."

The Weasleys had caught up by now, and Gabriel's living room was quickly overrun by curious redheads. Fred and George brightened as they noticed the other pair of twins.

"Didn't expect you two to be here!"

"Well, it is kind of our house." Vali brushed his hair back from his face. "Well, not so much ours as Dad's. Nice earring." The latter was directed towards Bill, who sported an earring made up of an actual tooth - or rather, fang - and a ponytail to rival Vali's. He nodded, grinning, and the slightly younger Weasley (Charlie, maybe, Gabriel didn’t recognize him) frowned in confusion.

"Wait, your Dad's?"

"Ah yes, introductions." Gabriel clapped his hands, drawing the attention of those in the room. "I'm sure at least some of you have met Vali and Narvi before, though I don't think under those names-"

"I thought you were named Vincent," Ron said, sinking onto another part of the sofa.

"Draws less attention than Vali," replied Vali, waving a hand dismissively. "I mean, it's not exactly a common name."

"I suppose not," Hermione agreed. "But, you mentioned your Dad?"

"As I was about to say," Gabriel continued, "That would be me."

Charlie did a double take, glancing between the twins and Gabriel. "Excuse me?"

“Is this an angel thing?” Ron questioned. “Where did all these kids come from?”

"Don't act so surprised." Gabriel rolled his eyes, ignoring Ron’s questions. "I might look fifteen now but that doesn't mean I am."

"Lucky for us, or else we might have never existed," joked Narvi. "I'm Narvi, by the way."

"Charlie," Charlie said. "But then, how old are you?"

Gabriel tried not to let himself grin (and had a feeling he wasn't doing that well) as Vali and Narvi glanced at each other.

"It's 2013, right?" Vali asked, more thinking out loud than anything else.

Narvi snorted. "For another week or two, yeah."

"Shut up, I was just making sure. It's not like either of us were keeping track of the date."

"Alright, alright." Narvi smacked Vali's shoulder. "Touchy."

"Are you going to keep us in suspense all night?" Fred and George had made themselves comfortable leaning over the back of the sofa, since it wasn't pressed up against a wall, and Gabriel spotted Mrs. Weasley discreetly slipping a squishy-looking package under the tree.

"Fine." Narvi flicked George on the head, mistaking one twin for another, probably on purpose. "If you're so curious, I'm nine hundred and fifteen."

Ginny nearly fell off the end of the sofa at the same moment that the doorbell rang.

Gabriel slid past a gaping Bill and out into the hall in time to see Jormungand go running past, swinging the door open excitedly. "Hel!"

_ "Hello to you too," _ Hel said, sweeping in and scattering snowflakes over the floor. Sigyn, of all people, followed her in, determinedly avoiding looking Gabriel in the eye. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," Jormungand repeated gleefully, "And happy...birthday Slepnir!" He had to pause a moment to remember the right word.

"Is it really?" Hel smiled at Gabriel. "Lucky I brought presents, then. How are you?"

"Wonderful." Gabriel hugged her, feeling the tingle of the glamour over her left side. "What about you?"

"Egypt was fabulous, your description of the pyramids wasn't even close to really seeing them." Hel brushed the last vestiges of snow off her cloak before hanging it up, revealing a long dress.  _ "Jormungand, where are your brothers?" _

_ "In there! I'll go get them." _ Jormungand darted off again, pounding up the stairs two at a time. Hel grinned after him.

"They seem happy," she said, moving out of the way as Sigyn wordlessly swept past into the room full of Weasleys. A startled "Mom!" reached Gabriel's ears.

"They are," was all he said in reply. "Would you like to see the tree? Everyone else insists that it's too big but I don't see the problem."

"I'm inclined to think they may be right."

The Weasleys looked no less shocked than when Gabriel had left the room, but if the way they were looking between him and Sigyn was any indication Narvi's name had been long forgotten.

Michael's mouth was open. "But-" Ne looked very lost. "If  _ you're  _ their dad - and she's-"

"Excellent deduction, Holmes," Gabriel said dryly, pretending he didn't notice Hel trying not to laugh at the tree which was still slightly bent over at the top despite the fact that he'd made the room slightly bigger on the inside. "Anything else completely obvious you'd like to point out?"

"I think," Ginny said slowly, "That nothing here is going to surprise me anymore."

A door slammed open and Slepnir grinned widely. "Hel!"

_ "I heard it was your birthday," _ Hel teased, waving a small package she had pulled from nowhere.  _ "I wonder who this could be for?" _

Slepnir was across the room in an instant, and if Gabriel hadn't been able to tell otherwise he would have thought Slepnir used magic. The package vanished in the same instant and Slepnir groaned at his sister's suddenly empty hand.  _ "No fair." _

_ "Hello to you to." _ Hel hugged him quickly. "Happy birthday!"

_ "It's actually tomorrow," _ Slepnir corrected her. _ "But Faðir says Christmas day is for families only." _

_ "Wise words," _ Hel agreed.  _ "How about you introduce me to all of these redheads?" _

_ "Okay!" _ Slepnir turned around and the first Weasley he came across (who happened to be Charlie) made him stop.  _ "I don't know you." _

Charlie looked nonplussed. "Is there a translator somewhere?"

"Get used to it," Gabriel advised. "And if you really want to know just ask the twins."

“Oh, thanks,” Vali grumbled. 

* * *

 

Gabriel was not entirely sure how he managed to get all nine Weasleys, Hermione, Michael, Sigyn, Hel, and three hyperactive boys seated around the magically-extended dining room table, but it  _ somehow _ happened. He’d already set out the food that he’d cooked (which had taken ages) as well as the stuff Mrs. Weasley had brought. 

The Weasleys took up one end of the table, but even so Sigyn was seated as far away from Gabriel as she could, with Vali, Narvi, and Hel in between her and Gabriel. Slepnir, as the birthday boy, was seated at the head of the table, but kept leaning over to try and talk to Sigyn. All three boys had been ecstatic when they realized that she was there, and Gabriel realized with a start that for the past year Sigyn had been a much more permanent figure in their lives than he had, even though none of them save Slepnir had known her previously.

Bill was sitting next to Sigyn, and he kept giving her what he probably thought were sneaky glances out of the corner of his eye. It made Gabriel wonder where the Weasleys had thought his children had come from. 

There was a hum of chatter overlaying the entire scene. The Weasleys were loud enough on their own, but plus six kids and sundry made the room even louder. People stuck to talking to their neighbors, but occasionally someone would yell down the table and inevitably be shushed just as loudly by Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley had struck up a conversation with Narvi that seemed to be about the Underground, though Gabriel wasn’t sure if he’d heard right or not. Fred and George had their heads bent together and were planning something, using their food to map bits of whatever it was out. Sigyn, to Gabriel’s surprise, was speaking quietly with Hel. He was tempted to eavesdrop, but if either of them noticed, it wasn’t worth the anger he’d face in return. 

_ "You work with dragons?" _ Came the yelp. Slepnir was staring in awe at Charlie, who was next to him. 

Charlie looked lost. "What?"

"Slepnir really likes dragons,” Gabriel provided, being the closest capable translator. "I mean he absolutely loves them. You probably just made his day."

"Oh." Charlie grinned back. "In that case, I've got a ton of stories - the reserve is down in Romania, but we get a ton of different kinds of dragons." He went on describing different kinds of dragons, keeping Slepnir listening with rapt attention as Gabriel muttered a translation to him. The room was full of people talking and laughing with half-eaten dishes on the table. Gabriel thought he understood why humans liked doing this so much.

When the birthday cake  - a large chocolate confection - was brought out, it was to rousing cheer. Gabriel almost doubted there was enough for everyone. Mrs. Weasley, however, had supplied enough fudge to last them through May, so there was more than enough dessert in general.

Once the food had been finished, Slepnir practically bolted out of his chair and dragged Charlie into the living room to show off all the movies they owned that were about dragons. Gabriel left as well to run interference and play translator, though Mrs. Weasley remained in the dining room, talking amicably to Sigyn. Then again, Charlie was clearly old enough to take care of himself, unlike Slepnir. 

"You have a TV?" Hermione asked, trailing them in and seeing the setup.

"What's a TV?" Ron questioned, puzzled. Mr. Weasley had drifted over as well, and was staring in delight at the flatscreen.

"Amazing!" He said. "I've never seen one like that before...but why have it around?"

Jormungand was staring at Mr. Weasley in confusion.  _ "So we can watch _ movies," he said, tone clearly indicating that it should have been obvious. Gabriel quickly translated, which only seemed to add to Hermione's confusion. 

"But electricity doesn't work around magic," she insisted. "So unless you've found a way around that-"

_ "Of course it does," _ Fenris interrupted.  _ "Why wouldn't it work around magic?" _

_ "It doesn't work around wizard magic," _ Gabriel explained.  _ "Theirs is different, remember." _

_ "That's stupid," _ Slepnir declared.  _ "You mean they've never seen a movie?" _

"What are you talking about?" Ginny asked.

"Slepnir is probably about to insist that we watch a movie since you've never seen one before," Gabriel gestured to where his oldest was already rummaging through DVDs. "It's a complete scandal, apparently."

"We've seen a movie," Michael objected. "We all went out last summer, remember? You recommended one."

"Oh, yeah, that Star Trek sequel."

Ron shook his head. "That was intense. I still think they had to have used magic to do some of that."

Bill looked over at the shelf full of movies, eyebrows raised. "Seriously? Muggles can do something that good?"

"Well, they've got electricity, which is one step farther than wizards have gone in the last, what was it, century or so?" Gabriel pointed out. Mr. Weasley looked even more fascinated.

"But how do they put dragons in movies when they don't know they exist?" He questioned.

"Well, this one in particular is animated, so there aren't any actual people in it-" Gabriel held up his hand when he saw another question forming. "I'm not going to explain animation to you and if you're that curious we might as well just watch it."

* * *

 

Gabriel had a nagging feeling that he may have started something beyond his control by introducing Mr. Weasley to animation.

Mrs. Weasley, at least, didn't seem to appreciate her husband's newfound obsession, but she was at least somewhat mollified by the reaction to the sweaters she'd made. It was a little funny to see Fenris going around with his tunic sticking out from under a blue knitted sweater, which didn't bear a letter because he had never been formally introduced to the Weasleys.

"They're cute, you know." Michael mused, watching Jormungand tinker with an iPod to see if magic would really make it break.

"Of course they are," Gabriel scoffed. "They're my kids."

"I can tell." Michael glanced back at Gabriel. "I mean, even if they look like you do now, they sort of act like you."

Gabriel hummed noncommittally in response and automatically moved out of the way as Hel sat down next to him.

"It's nice to be here," She remarked, and then seemed to notice Michael. "Oh - did I interrupt something?"

"Not at all," Gabriel reassured her before Michael could say anything. "This is Michael, by the way."

"Hi," Michael said, waving tentatively.

"Hello," Hel replied. "So you're a wizard, correct?"

"Yeah," Michael agreed, barely reacting to the male specification. "I mean, I'm a wizard."

"This new kind of magic is fascinating," Hel mused. "I've noticed that it's restricted to humans, though."

"Isn't there just one kind of magic?" Hermione had wandered over and was frowning thoughtfully.

Hel laughed. "Of course not! What kind of narrow worldview is that?"

Hermione frowned even deeper and seated herself on the arm of the sofa. "But what other kinds of magic could there be? I've never read about any others."

Hel shook her head. "You think humans would have discovered this? From what I've heard of your society, they would never bother trying to find out what kind of magic those fantastic creatures you know of have, much less other kinds."

"You mean creatures have different magic?" Ron frowned. "What's different about it?"

"Can you turn yourself invisible with a thought?" Hel challenged. "Or - what is the name of that serpent in the lake?"

"You mean the Loch Ness monster," Gabriel supplied.

“Kelpie,” Hermione corrected.

“Really?”

"Exactly. Can it not change it shape into anything at all, with merely a thought? Do you mean to say that you can do that?"

"Well, there's Animagi," Hermione replied, "But an Animagus can only change into one animal."

"...I've never heard of Animagi," Hel admitted. "But don't you think that assuming everything has the same magic is like assuming that humanity is the only life in the universe?"

"Muggles don't have magic," Ron pointed out.

"How do you know for sure?" Gabriel asked. "You're right, of course, most humans don't have a single bit of 'magical' power in them, but who's to say that they don't have something else?"

"Do they?" Ginny looked interested, as opposed to skeptical, like most of the other guests.

Gabriel gave it a moment of thought. "Not like the kind of power you know, no," He said finally. "But I've met the Winchesters, and I've got to say I've never seen a pair of humans do so much." It was precisely the absence of power that made it so remarkable, but Gabriel would be damned before he admitted any of this to the brothers themselves.

"But what other kind of magic is there?" Hermione persisted. "There's wizard magic, but what else could there be?"

"What else is there in the world?" Gabriel asked rhetorically. "Pagans, for one, are on a whole different level."

"...You mean like the old gods?" Ginny frowned. "But you're an angel, so shouldn't that mean-"

"I assume you're referring to Daddy dearest." Gabriel waved a hand dismissively. "Sure, there's Him upstairs, but there are also gods, small g, plural. Kali, Baldr, Hermes - now  _ there  _ was someone who understood the whole appeal of tricks. I mean, until the Romans came along and bastardized the entire pantheon and turned him into Mercury. Had horrible personality troubles after that, kept switching between Greek and Roman, never quite the same. Oh, and Coyote! Damn, nearly forgot him."

Hermione's expression had been growing increasingly more incredulous. "You mean to say that every single god that has ever been worshipped actually  _ exists?  _ And you  _ know  _ them?"

"Not all of them. That would be a little impossible - do you have any idea how many there are? Humans are quite imaginative when it comes to religion."

"But how d'you know them?" Michael asked eagerly. "I mean, you're an angel an all."

"Hello?" Gabriel waved a hand at Hel, who looked at him in surprise. "Where did you think these guys came from? I hid out with the pagans for ages. Believe me, my siblings would have been the exact opposite of thrilled if they knew I had kids."

" _ You  _ were a god?" Ginny sat up in surprise.

"Why not?" Gabriel grinned. "Being worshipped and followed by thousands isn't exactly a bad deal, even if it's died out quite a bit."

"You've got a point there," Ron muttered, then winced when Hermione smacked him on the shoulder. "Ow! Hermione!"

"So are you a god - er, goddess, too?" Michael asked Hel.

“Giantess, technically,” Hel said coolly, prompting surprised glances.

"Technically, they all are," Gabriel intervened quickly, "They’re members of the pantheon at least indirectly through me. But none of them are old enough to have gotten a proper domain - I mean, you can't just look at a baby and decide that it's going to be the goddess of wrath or something like that, they've got to grow up first." He made a face. "And then, well, it all sort of died out before they got old enough."

"Died out?" Fred frowned, having wandered over. "What do you mean?"

"Well, there were all the old religions, and then Christianity started getting popular in Europe - and Islam in the more southern areas, I suppose - and it sort of steamrollered over everything else. Strangely enough, people don't usually count Judaism in with that group, even though they worship basically the same thing."

"Which is?" Hermione trailed off leadingly.

"Dad," Gabriel said simply. "And I'm included in that whole mess as well, archangel and all, but it's not quite the same thing, you know?"

"I think I get it." Ginny leaned against the back of the sofa. "But why become a god? Being an angel was pretty good, wasn't it?"

Gabriel's grin fell.

"Not necessarily," he said, noting that interest had suddenly sharpened with his slip-up. "Come on. Being personally worshipped?" He covered his face with another wide smile. "Way better than just getting prayed to all the time. That happened with godhood, too, but much more personal and much better benefits."

"There aren't any benefits to being an archangel?" Michael asked carefully.

"Besides being one of the six most powerful beings in literally all of creation?" Gabriel shrugged. "Not many."

Attention was sharply diverted after that when whatever Jormungand did to the iPod created a bang like a gun going off. Looking over sharply, Gabriel saw a sheepish-looking Jormungand hastily putting out sparks that had leaped onto the cuffs of his hoodie and a smoking iPod lying on the floor.

"Oh, kid,  _ that was brand new,”  _ Gabriel sighed.

_ “Sorry. _ ” Jormungand sounded glum.

_ “C’mere, hand it over. I’ll see if I can’t fix it.” _

* * *

 

Hermione cornered Gabriel in a relatively deserted kitchen a few minutes later. Deserted except for the dirty dishes, really. Gabriel was attempting to ignore them.

"What you said," she began, "About your siblings not being happy if they knew you had kids - were you being serious?"

"Why wouldn't I have been?"

"Well-" Hermione looked nonplussed. "Because they're your family."

She looked even more confused - and a little bit worried - when Gabriel started laughing.

"Hermione," he said, turning to face her properly, "The last time I talked to one of my brothers, he stabbed me. With my own sword. Trust me, there's not a whole lot of family love going on between us."

Hermione’s complexion had gone a bit grey. "But - if he was your brother-"

"That doesn't mean he gives a shit about me."

"Is that why you became a god?" Hermione asked after a moment.

Gabriel laughed, but it was quieter and a little more tired. "Are you trying to host a therapy session, Hermione? Because I don't do touchy-feely."

"But if it was only one of your brothers," Hermione pressed, "Then surely-"

"Hermione," Gabriel interrupted, "Listen to me. Do you have any idea of how many siblings I have? Hundreds of millions of them. I haven't even  _ met _ some of them." He leaned back against the counter. "The whole idea of a family sticking up for each other and loving unconditionally is nice, but that's a human thing. However you spin it, angels and humans are just built differently." Gabriel shrugged. "It might be because you just have shorter lives. Maybe not. But the story stays the same."

Hermione surprised him with a hug.

"Whoa!"

"I don't know if angels can tell," Hermione said, breath tickling his ear, "Or if it's just you being thick, but that's really sad."

"Well, hey, I've always got family down here."

" _ Still."  _ Hermione pulled away. "Gabriel..." It was the first time she'd called him that, as if Hermione was seeing for the first time beyond the vessel. "You know we're here for you, right?"

"That's super touchy-feely territory, Hermione, I don't know if I can go there." Gabriel had to take a minute to recover his voice, and he grinned reassuringly at her. "What do you say we rejoin the party?"

He ignored Hermione's protests that he hadn't answered her question and swept back into the living room.  _ "Hey, Slepnir, what do you think about pulling some of those Christmas crackers? They brought magical ones!" _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY SORRY SORRY
> 
> I really mean it this time, though.
> 
> Comment, please!


	47. Problems of Varying Severity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes. Lucky number 47. Wait a minute. It's 49 that's lucky. 
> 
> Guess you guys will have to wait a few more chapters :)
> 
> In case you haven't already guessed, I've given up on trying to avoid the evil author path.

Hel had apparently moved in permanently. Gabriel had come down Christmas morning to see her sitting on the sofa, calm as you please, and without her glamour.

"What are you doing here?" Gabriel had immediately realized how rude that sounded. "Sorry, I just - didn't expect that you hadn't left yet."

"It's fine," Hel replied quickly, sitting up from where she had been leaning against the back of the sofa. Her dead side looked even more starkly black in the greyish morning light. "I just thought - well, travel gets a little tiring when you have gotten used to staying in one place for so long."

"It's fine if you stay," Gabriel reassured her quietly. "I just thought you wanted to travel more. But you always had a home here, Hel."

"I know." Judging by the way she had relaxed, Gabriel didn't think she did.

"I'm surprised Slepnir and the others aren't up yet," Hel commented, breaking the silence which had settled over them. Gabriel joined her on the sofa.

"They planned to get up early, but they stayed up so late last night that I don't think even Fenris will be up for a while."

Hel nodded. "I wasn't sure how long the party went on, but I thought something was odd."

A couple brightly patterned packages had been added to the mess under the tree, but Gabriel didn't bring attention to them. "I could set up a room for you, if you want. Personalized and everything. You can decorate it with whatever souvenirs you got. How was your trip, by the way?"

Hel seemed relieved by the subject change. "That would be nice...I think. And this world is so  _ vibrant."  _ She smiled. "There is so much more going on than there ever was in Helheim! And so much variety. Who would have ever thought that humans could invent so much?"

"Counting my siblings? Probably not a lot."

That made her laugh. "You know that is not what I meant."

"Alright, then, tell me what you did. Where was your favorite?"

"Well, I did like India..."

* * *

 

Gabriel was confronted with two problems as Christmas vacation drew to a close.

There was the usual mania in which Fenris attempted to insist that the Weasleys having met them meant it was okay for the three kids to go with Gabriel to Hogwarts, which Gabriel refused on the grounds that Fenris didn't have enough proof and then spent a few hours making it up to him. Which, in this case, meant a few hours playing and badly losing at various games which were picked seemingly at random. Gabriel always made sure not to make it too obvious that he was losing on purpose, otherwise Fenris would just get even madder.

The other problem was Sigyn.

Gabriel had no idea why she'd even shown up for Christmas, since even though he'd asked for her help she consistently mysteriously vanished on personal trips every time he came home, seemingly determined not to spend a minute within fifty miles of Gabriel. He didn't blame her, of course, but it was a little disappointing to know that Sigyn's resolve hadn't softened a bit in the nine or so centuries separating now and when she'd kicked him out.

Despite all this, however, she'd continued to stay in the house after Christmas.

Gabriel had no idea why.

Vali and Narvi might have convinced her, but Sigyn didn't let anyone have  _ that  _ much influence over her, and Gabriel wasn't entirely sure she'd make an exception for her sons. Whatever her (completely mysterious])reasons, it didn't come hand in hand with Sigyn paying any actual attention to Gabriel again.

Which was fine, because this actually made sense.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the other occupants of the house were not nearly as willing to let the matter lie.

"I have no idea," Balthazar began, the usual glass in hand and back from wherever he'd been a few days ago, "Why you would just let a woman like that pretend you don't exist."

"Because she'd probably stab me if I tried to talk to her." An exaggeration, maybe - Sigyn had never gone in for bladed weapons. Though that was more social expectation than her own preference. Who knew, something might have changed.

"So? What's she going to do, kill you?" Balthazar drained his glass. 

“I’d rather not get into an argument with her over whatever ends up happening if I follow your advice,” Gabriel murmured, paging through a book he’d picked at random.

Balthazar squinted at Gabriel. "Are you even listening to me, Gabriel?"

"Unfortunately, I've heard every word you just said."

"Shut it. What did you do, anyway? I've never seen a woman so determinedly offended by something."

"I pretended I was Loki and didn't tell her otherwise until after we were married."

Balthazar paused. "...And after the twins were born?"

"Yes. They were about thirty."

Balthazar whistled. "That would do it, I suppose. Sorry, I've got nothing."

"I wasn't  _ asking  _ for reconciliation advice. You were the one who started this conversation in the first place."

"When did you get married, anyway?"

"Why the sudden interest in my love life?" Gabriel closed the book with a snap and chucked it at Balthazar, who dodged with what looked like minimal effort.

"I was just  _ wondering.  _ No need to get so defensive. But I was thinking, since they didn't technically have divorce back then-"

Gabriel told his brother exactly where he could shove that train of thought and then closed the door in his face.

* * *

 

Narvi came up to Gabriel the night before he left. "Hey."

"Hey. Something on your mind?" Gabriel shoved a few pairs of robe into a crack in between a few piles of books. 

“Well-” Narvi took a deep breath. “Look, I was talking to mom recently.”

“Uh-oh,” Gabriel laughed.

“It’s not funny! The whole angel thing-”

“Why is everyone asking me about that?” Gabriel asked, slamming the trunk closed. It closed with only a little resistance.

“I don’t know, because we all know now?” Narvi suggested. “Will you listen?”

“Sure,” Gabriel sighed. He hopped on top of the trunk to get it the rest of the way down, and then clicked the locks closed. “What?”

“It’s just kind of bullshit, isn’t it?” Narvi said. “Like, okay, I understand that it was a crap move to pull, lying to her, but just because you were an angel-”

“If  _ that’s  _ what’s rubbing you wrong about this, I’m not the one you should take it up with,” Gabriel snapped. Upon seeing Narvi’s startled expression, he sighed. “I didn’t mean to - I left because Sigyn asked me to. Very pointedly. If I thought there was a way I could’ve stayed, I would’ve. If you’re trying to get us to, I don’t know, reconcile, then go to her. The ball’s been in her court for the past thousand years or so.”

Narvi crossed his arms. “And you haven’t tried to talk to her the whole time?” 

“Was the news of a divorce I wasn’t even there for supposed to make me want to get back in touch?” Gabriel gave him a flat look. “I moved on with my life. If Sigyn wants to still be pissed over something that happened hundreds of years ago, that’s her business.”

Narvi still looked unconvinced, but there was an added degree of uncertainty. “I just don’t think that mom would still be upset over something like after so long,” he said. “Was it really just that?”

Gabriel didn’t think there was much else for her to be upset about. They’d only met, what,  _ once  _ after they separated? 

Then again, under  _ those  _ circumstances...

“Yes,” Gabriel lied, “just that. I’m not a mindreader, I don’t know why she does what she does. Now let me pack in peace, I don’t want to get there and have to send off for half my stuff because I’ve left it all at home.”

* * *

 

Hogwarts was exactly as Gabriel remembered it. Not surprising, considering he'd only been gone a few weeks.

But honestly, it was starting to get a little boring.

Alright, sure, there were Michael and Hermione to keep things lively, and some sort of disaster was bound to happen sooner or later, but the last time Gabriel had spent more than a few years in once place humanity had still been struggling with basic concepts like not dumping their waste in the street.

And then there was the annoyance factor of people continually 'sneaking' up to him to ask when the next DA meeting was.

"Not today, ask someone else." Gabriel went practically on autopilot whenever he heard the question by now, and Michael wasn't in much better of a mood.

"Honestly," ne grumbled as Zacharias Smith haughtily stalked away. "You'd think they'd figure out to ask each other instead of coming up to you that obviously."

"Well, you never know. They are wizards."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on Michael, can you point out any wizard-raised person in this school and honestly tell me that they're not even a little bit dense?"

"Well when you put it like  _ that." _

Despite the annoyances and the fact that Gabriel had to go to classes again, things were fitting back together neatly and it seemed like for once a year at Hogwarts had arrived that would not be fraught with danger.

Except for the whole Dark Lord on the loose bit, but immediate danger at least seemed to be nowhere near.

Unless, of course, Hermione finally lost it and actually assaulted Fred and George.

"I don't understand what you've got against them," Gabriel said as he watched Fred hex Ernie Macmillian behind his back for the tenth time while George watched, instead of practicing with each other.

"It's not them," Hermione huffed. "Or, well, yes it is them! They've been getting started on this joke shop of theirs."

"So?"

" _ So,"  _ Hermione stressed the word dangerously as she attempted to glare a hole in the back of George's head, "They've been testing their products on people."

"What?"

"I can't even do anything about it, because they're testing it all on themselves-" Well, that made a lot more sense than what Gabriel had  _ thought  _ Hermione had meant. "-And they're not doing anything really danger, it's just this line of sweets they've invented to get out of class-"

"What kind?" Gabriel interrupted.

Hermione switched her glare to him. "You'd probably support them," She muttered darkly. "It's this range of sweets to make you ill, apparently - gives you a headache, fever, makes you throw up, or whatever, and then as soon as you leave the room you eat the second bit and skive class."

No wonder it was grating on Hermione so much. She probably considered the candy a personal offense. "I've never heard of this before."

"Well, it's all based in Gryffindor tower, obviously, I don't think they've done much marketing." Hermione's tone changed to one of grudging respect. "Mind you, there was this thing they were demonstrating - a hat that turns your head invisible, and I've no idea how they did it."

"Just the head?"

"Yes!"

"Seems kind of pointless."

"It's meant to be a joke, but yes, I suppose it is."

"Joke shop, huh?" Gabriel muttered to himself. This warranted a further look.

* * *

 

Gabriel, from his place at the Ravenclaw table, saw Fred and George look up sharply when the owl landed in between them.

He also saw them exchange a puzzled look, figure out that it was indeed addressed to them, and open it. Their eyes opened wide as something with a gold glint fell onto the table.

Gabriel didn't bother trying not to grin and did so, and so fiercely that he made a couple of nearby Ravenclaws scoot away nervously. Michael didn't react besides trying to follow Gabriel's line of sight.

"What's made you so happy?" Ne asked.

"Nothing in particular."

Michael didn't press the subject, but Gabriel did see nem roll nir eyes.

The twins glanced around the hall from the note they had been huddled over, eyes meeting Gabriel's. Gabriel grinned wider, and put a finger over his lips.

Fred and George cornered him as soon as breakfast let out for first period, and Gabriel let them yank him behind a pillar without resisting, meeting their incredulous faces with a lazy grin.

"Something I can do for you?"

"What is this?" Fred shoved the key into his face, while George held up the note that had been included.

_ Have fun. -Gabriel. _

"It looks like a key," said Gabriel, keeping a straight face.

"Why," George asked, "Did you send us a key to the Potter vault?"

"Who says it's for the Potter vault?"

The twins exchanged glances. "Is it?"

"Of course it is." Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Did you think that fancy P engraving was just for kicks?"

"But why?"

"Because I felt like it." Gabriel crossed his arms. "Hermione told me about this shop venture of yours."

Slow understanding and something like critical levels of confusion dawned on the twins.

"But-"

"Why would you-"

"Archangel and all-"

"Want to fund us?"

"Because I felt like it," Gabriel repeated. "Besides, what the hell was I going to do with all that money? Might as well hand it over to someone who's going to put it to a good use." He winked. "Careful with that lot, and it could last you quite a while."

Fred seemed to have been rendered speechless.

"Harry," George breathed, "But - this is an  _ entire pureblood fortune." _

"Exactly. What the hell am I supposed to do with all that gold? I don't need it." He had plenty in his moneybag in case of emergency, besides, and only the wizarding world used that type of currency, so it would be completely useless as Gabriel didn’t intend to have much to do with the magical districts of England.

Fred looked between the key in his hand and Gabriel. "You're serious."

"Deadly." Gabriel reconsidered. "Well, not deadly, but pretty damn close anyways."

"Because you like the idea of a joke shop?" George asked weakly.

Gabriel shrugged. "Someone's got to be the one who makes fun of everything else. Might as well be you two, I'm busy." He clapped them both on their shoulders. "Have fun with that. Don't waste it." He walked off without letting them speak; he had a Runes class to get to.

* * *

 

A few days after the incident with the vault key, Gabriel came down to the Great Hall and was immediately pulled over to the Gryffindor table by a shaken-looking Hermione.

"What's happened?" He demanded as she shoved him into a seat next to Michael, who didn't look much better.

"Look at this!" Hermione thrust a newspaper in Gabriel's face, and he leaned back to make out the words.

_ MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN _

"What's Azkaban again?" Gabriel asked, frowning at the headline.

"It's the wizard prison." Michael answered, and Gabriel's gaze dropped to the fifty or so pictures below the bold headline.

He recognized almost all of the family names listed - every single one of the escapees had had at least one relative in the graveyard at the end of last year.

"Well, shit."

"Basically." Hermione didn't even yell at him for swearing - or maybe she'd just given up on getting him to stop.

"I thought it was supposed to be impregnable or something?" Gabriel scanned through the article quickly as he asked.

"Sirius broke out," Hermione pointed out.

"Sirius is an Animagus. I doubt even  _ one _ of this lot can do that." Gabriel glanced around. "And while we're on this subject, is there a reason no one else seems worried?"

"No one else gets the newspaper," Michael reminded Gabriel. "Besides, look at Dumbledore."

Dumbledore and McGonagall were in deep conversation with frowns set into both their faces. From further down the table, Ackerly would occasionally send glares up at them - no surprise there, since the breakout was a serious hit to the credibility of her boss's claim that Voldemort was dead.

"Oh, I hope she's upset," Hermione said viciously, seeing where Gabriel was looking. " _ Honestly... _ at least we know she won't try and get another one of those Decrees passed."

It was true - Ackerly hadn't attempted to pass a single new rule after Gabriel had spent three weeks switching them around and making them say progressively more ridiculous things, completely baffling the teachers when they couldn't detect a single bit of forgery magic on the parchment.

Michael had glanced around the Hall again, and was now staring at the opposite end. "Is it just me," Ne said, tapping Gabriel on the shoulder without looking away, "Or is Malfoy staring at you?"

Gabriel followed nir line of sight and saw that yes, Draco was actually glaring at him rather darkly. Gabriel wracked his mind for a reason why the youngest Malfoy would be glaring at him, and with a jolt remembered his promise from earlier in the year to meet Draco at the train station over break.

Whoops.

"One sec," he told Michael, gesturing at Draco with one hand and seeing the surprise on the latter's face when he realized he'd been noticed. Gabriel got up and meandered out of the hall.

He didn't have to wait long for Draco to follow.

"What was the point of all that nonsense if you weren't going to follow through?" Draco sounded angry, too, and he had every right to be.

"It wasn't nonsense. There was the brief issue of my having to go save someone and I couldn't make the train."

There was a brief pause, and Draco looked like he was deciding whether or not he believed Gabriel. "So you just thought I could handle it?"

"I don't know where you live, Draco, what did you expect me to do? Burst through a window and kidnap you to freedom?"

Draco didn't have an answer. He was staring at the ground. "I saw you looking at the news," He said. "I wanted to warn you-"

" _ Don't  _ go there." The words came out sharper than Gabriel had intended, and he was suddenly inches in front of Draco, who jumped backwards slightly. "I don't care how much you feel live you have to make up, don't put yourself at risk to do that. You're fifteen."

"So are you."

Right. "I know that," Gabriel said. "And do you see me risking my ass?"

"You just said you had to go and save someone."

"Because I reasonably could and it wouldn't have gotten me killed. What would happen if someone found out that you'd tried to warn me?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Judging from what I've seen of Voldemort before, nothing good."

Surprisingly, Draco didn't react that much to the name. Maybe he was desensitized, but Gabriel was fairly sure that Death Eaters called him 'The Dark Lord' or some other ridiculous title. He looked uncomfortable. "Is there somewhere else we can go?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder at the Hall.

Gabriel nodded. "Later." He was struck by a sudden memory from the year before last. "There's this place on the seventh floor - near a tapestry of some idiot with trolls in ballet costumes. There'll be a door there - go in it. Say tonight?"

Draco nodded tersely. "Fine."

"See you then."

* * *

 

Draco was exactly on time, which was odd, because Gabriel had never specified a time.

He opened the door on an astonished Gabriel, who was looking around at the small room with chairs and a fireplace.

"What's got you so shocked?"

"This room," Gabriel said, "Has somehow completely changed its dimensions."

That made Draco look around in surprise. "How do you know?"

"I've been in here before."

"What did it look like then?"

"Much bigger. Also lots more stuff, which would probably be very easy to get lost in now that I think about it. This room is a lot more suitable. I was trying to figure out how it worked."

"What room is this?" Draco poked one of the chairs apprehensively.

"Never mind," Gabriel said, collapsing into one gracelessly, "You wanted to talk about something privately. What?"

Draco's hand tightened on the back of the chair, and he didn't sit down. "When you said you could help," he began, "did you mean it?"

"Help you not have to get an evil tattoo? 'Course."

"So about the train station-"

"I promise, that was an accident. I didn't mean to leave you high and dry."

Hesitantly, Draco took a seat. He was perched on the edge of the chair, and was leaning slightly forward. "Is-" He cleared his throat and tried again. "Do you think there's really anything you can do, or are you just leading me on?"

"Straight to the point." Gabriel couldn't sense anything other than blunt demand in Draco's question. He wasn't hopeful, not anymore, he just wanted to find a way out he wasn't even sure was there. "Yes, I do mean it."

"How?" Draco almost looked disappointed. "What can you do?"

"Probably a lot more than you think I can." Gabriel grinned. "Let's be honest, Draco, you underestimate me."

"So you're telling me you have a way of - of what, protecting me?"

"What are you asking me to do?"

Draco took a deep breath and took several moments before he answered.

"I don't want to be a death eater."

"Then I can help."

"How?"

" _ How?"  _ Gabriel snorted. "You expect me to come up with a plan in twelve seconds? I can help, believe me, but I'm gonna need a little more time than that."

Draco's hands twined together and apart again in an unconscious motion. He didn't respond.

"...Something eating at you?"

"I'm supposed to take the dark mark next summer." The words came out so quietly that if Gabriel had been human he doubted he'd have heard them.

"Ah." Gabriel waited.

"I don't-" Draco took a deep breath. "I don't want  _ anything  _ to do with it. I - it doesn't  _ matter  _ who they hate, what they do is-" He broke off, hands clenching at the armrests. Gabriel didn't have to ask who 'they' were.

"I told you you deserved a choice," He told Draco, "And I meant it. I'm sorry about what happened over break, and I swear it won't happen again. Trust me, Draco."

Draco laughed quietly. "Trust you?" He said spitefully. "You have no idea - just because I'm a Slytherin, everyone assumes I'm evil. I can see the looks I get in that club - they all think I'm going to hex them as soon as they turn their backs on me. It doesn't matter if I have a choice or not, neither side is any better than the other!"

Gabriel stayed still and let Draco shout at him. The latter slumped into his seat once he'd finished yelling, energy seemingly used up.

"Sorry," He muttered after a moment.

"No, I get it. Sometimes you just gotta yell a bit." Gabriel stood up. "I'll let you know once I've got something, then. Room's all yours if you'd like to stay. See you, Draco."

* * *

 

It seemed to be just one disaster after another this year.

Nothing more had come up with Draco, luckily, aside from Gabriel paying a bit more attention to him - and more specifically, the people around him - during DA meetings. But that wasn't the problem.

The  _ problem  _ was that something was leeching off of Gabriel's Horn, and he hadn’t even noticed. And he wouldn’t have, if Michael hadn’t asked to see it.

“Whoa,” Michael said as Gabriel pulled it out of seemingly thin air. “Sweet. Is that some kind of animal horn?”

“It looks a bit like a human shofar. It tends to.” Gabriel frowned at the horn. There was something very slightly off about it.

“Is something wrong?” Michael questioned.

“I’m not su-” Gabriel broke off to swear, making Michael jump in surprise. “ _ Yes.  _ Damnit, yes. Something’s leeching off it.”

“ _ Leeching _ off it? Like its power? Is that possible?”

“Only with a very specific spell.” Gabriel glared at the Horn, though it had done nothing wrong. “ _ Something’s  _ going wrong, somewhere.”

“Can you undo it?” Michael looked genuinely anxious for him.

“I’m going to have to go check it out myself.” Gabriel made the decision as he spoke. He stood up, putting the Horn away in the same motion. “Don’t tell anyone where I went.”

“Wait, Gabriel-”

* * *

 

"Crap, _ ow!"  _ Gabriel took a deep breath but left his hand on his back in a vain attempt to alleviate the sudden burn where his third pair used to meet his vessel. Fortunately, he'd landed on the right Earth.

"Alright, then." Gabriel glanced down at himself. "Yeah, this has to go."

He stepped onto the busy city street, the appearance of his old vessel melting over him and making him oh-so-slightly taller. Now that he was here, in the right world, it was blindingly obvious where the signal was coming from. Especially if one knew where to look. It didn’t tell him who had done it, but it would be easy enough to find out. Probably.

Gabriel winced and braced himself. He snapped out his wings, and arrived in the middle of a bloodbath.

Gabriel almost forgot the ache in his wings as he looked around in horror at the bodies strewn around the room. The floor was covered in ashes and scars from a vicious heat, creating the shapes of bony and tattered wings which Gabriel did his best not to concentrate too hard on. Dropped angel blades lay here and there on the dirty floor of what looked like a factory, but most appeared to have been scavenged by others who might have come by.

Gabriel breathed out slowly and put a hand over his mouth.

This was bad.

_ Very  _ bad.

The sigil was a drippy red on the wall, fading away from the bright bluish-white it had been flashing when he'd arrived. Gabriel wrenched his attention away from his fallen siblings as he stepped closer (and very carefully over someone) to get a closer look.

He touched the sigil gently, and then scraped some of it off the wall. It came off in clumps, not in flakes like paint or blood.

"Griffin feathers, fairy bones...someone went to a lot of trouble for this." Gabriel very firmly told himself that he was not going to turn back around, and dusted his hand off. "Question is, why bring a bunch of angels here just to kill them?"

Who would be that desperate to kill angels?

Gabriel didn't have time to think of an answer as something tugged sharply at him. Not his vessel,  _ him,  _ something he hadn't felt in ages. Gabriel didn’t even have time to think before he was being pulled through space with the force of the summoning until he landed awkwardly on a terribly ugly carpet.

He rolled, bringing himself to his feet at the same moment that holy fire roared to life in a circle around him.

There was someone standing just outside the circle.

"Gabriel," Metatron said jovially. "Glad to see you made it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Evil laughter can be heard faintly in the distance*
> 
> Comment, please!


	48. Brothers and Holy Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo. What did you guys think of the cliffhanger I gave you?
> 
> Ehehe.
> 
> If you're wondering about the first scene [directly below] and what happens to Gabriel, I was thinking of this piece by consulting-cannibal; http://consulting-cannibal.tumblr.com/post/83019480391/ohhh-metatron-mused-flipping-through-the-pages
> 
> A warning: A lot of the scene is going to be straight from 'Meta Fiction', because I really liked the way they wrote it and while I can't directly quote the entire plotline without looking it up I'll be sticking pretty close to it. If you're the kind of reviewer who dislikes that, please do not leave a review about it. I know.

"Metatron," Gabriel replied coldly, eyes half on the ring of holy fire and half on his brother. "I'd say thanks for having me, but this isn't the greatest welcoming committee you've got here."

"Yes, well," Metatron mused, "You are an archangel, after all. Bit of a loose cannon." He smiled falsely at Gabriel. "Can't have you running around and ruining all of my good work, can we?"

"Work like kicking everyone out of Heaven?" Gabriel questioned. "Yeah, sounds like it's been tons of fun around here."

"What I did was for a reason," Metatron fiddled with a bowl in front of him and Gabriel stiffened as he struck a match. "It's all been in the works for years, you know, and it would be truly terrible if things were derailed so soon after they started."

He dropped the match.

The ingredients in the bowl went up in flame and Gabriel dropped to his knees with a muffled yell and a curse as something burned around his wings, and his wrists, tying them down with all the force of holy fire chains - which, if he wasn't mistaken, was exactly what they were.

"A little recipe of my own design." Even though Gabriel was hunched over and staring at the floor, Metatron was practically radiating smugness. "Works very nicely on angels, even archangels - especially when they're low on power, wouldn't you say, Gabriel?"

"Go fuck yourself."

Metatron actually tutted. "I can see you're not going to be very cooperative."

Gabriel raised his head and stared at Metatron in utter disbelief. "Cooperative?" He asked incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about, Metatron?"

"You didn't think I summoned you and went to all this trouble for nothing, did you?" Metatron took a seat behind his desk where, for some reason, an old-fashioned typewriter sat, and picked up a thin paperback. "No, no, Gabriel, I've been doing my research."

Gabriel recognized the book, too.

"Wow," he said, words dripping with as much sarcasm as he could muster. "The Winchester gospel. I'm terrified."

"Oh, it's not just the Winchesters who are in here." Metatron flipped over the book, and Gabriel saw that it was titled  _ Hammer of the Gods. _ "You're included quite a few times - I have to say, I'm surprised that the Winchesters didn't figure out who you really were quicker. Trapping Sam in a time loop?" He raised his eyebrows. "Not exactly subtle on the power side of things."

"I wasn't trying to be subtle. I was trying to make a point."

"I'm sure you were." Metatron fanned through the pages of the book. "Although it didn't exactly make it through, did it? Lucifer still rose." He held up the book as if showing it off to Gabriel. "And that brings us to this - your supposed death."

Gabriel smirked, knowing it would rile Metatron. "Must not have worked as well as I thought, if you noticed."

"Oh, I doubt anyone else did." Metatron's voice grew colder. "None of them had quite as much reason to want to be sure you were dead."

"At least you're honest about your motives," Gabriel said after a moment. "I'm surprised, though."

"Oh?" Metatron sounded like he'd done his best to not sound curious, but it hadn't fully worked.

"That you're still bitter that we got to be around Dad longer than you did."

Metatron's face went stony. "I was His scribe!" He seethed, standing up to his full height.

"Yeah, sure, but who sent His messages?" Gabriel taunted, hooking his thumbs towards himself and ignoring the burn of the cuffs. "You weren't even around until after Earth was, and I stood by His side when he created this universe."

Metatron gestured tightly with one hand and the chains pressed into Gabriel's wings with a new intensity.

" _ Ow -  _ motherfu-"

"You archangels," Metatron said tersely, "Were always so  _ arrogant.  _ You think you're special because you stood by His side for longer than I did?"

"Actually, in that case I think it's because of my stunning good looks - ow!"

"Do you have any idea how it felt?" Metatron demanded. "To be plucked from obscurity -  _ chosen -  _ to sit at God's feet and write down His word? To be ignored by you archangels all the time?"

"I imagine it made you a lot of enemies."

Metatron made a disgusted noise and sat back in his chair, obviously calming himself down. After a few moments had passed, he spoke again.

"None of that matters now, though."

"Doesn't it?" Gabriel glared up at Metatron. "Why? Because you think you've got me where you want me?"

"You're bound in holy fire, Gabriel, you're not going anywhere."

"Maybe not now." Gabriel spoke as menacingly as he could "But for a guy dad gave all that knowledge to - all of that, and you don't seem to understand me at all."

"I think I've got the measure of you better than you think." Metatron tossed the book into the fireplace with one quick movement, watching it burn with hooded eyes.

"Maybe you should have consulted some older works, Meta-douche. You don't seem to remember what I'm capable of. Sodom and Gomorrah ring a bell?"

" _ I  _ don't need to do anything, Gabriel." He could detect the faintest trace of nervousness in Metatron's voice, which Gabriel took vindictive pleasure in. "You do."

"Excuse me?" Gabriel thought for a moment that maybe he'd misheard Metatron.

"You're going to help me."

"Like hell."

"Oh, I'm not asking, Gabriel."

"No."

"It would be a shame," Metatron mused, eyeing the circle of holy fire, "If that circle were too small to hold you."

If Gabriel hadn't seen it he wouldn't have believed it, but the circle started to  _ shrink, _ the flames licking at the carpet and creeping closer. His wings instinctually pressed closer to his back, already protesting the tight ropes of holy fire that prevented Gabriel from spreading them. "Who-ho-hoa, okay! Okay! Let's talk about this!"

Metatron smiled, and something inside Gabriel gagged a little bit. "I need to you talk to Castiel for me."

"That's it?" Gabriel had been expecting something on a larger scale.

"It has to be you - he won't listen otherwise. I wouldn't have bothered bringing you here just for that, but, well, authenticity matters."

"...Fine." Gabriel said shortly. "Mind explaining how I'm supposed to talk to him like this?" He raised his wrists meaningfully.

"Don't worry about that." Metatron was still smiling, and it was starting to get creepy. "And it's a very simple thing. I need you to convince him to lead the angels against me."

Gabriel's eyebrows shot up. "You  _ want  _ him to fight you? That's going on the list of the craziest things you've said this whole time."

"Every hero needs a villain."

Gabriel stared for a moment and then started laughing. "You're seriously - ow!" The chains dug in again for a brief moment. "Enough already!"

"Well?" Metatron asked. "It's simple enough, even with your - I imagine - drastically reduced power."

"I said fine already. Now let me out so I can go track down Castiel."

"Not necessary."

Gabriel stared. "Uh, yeah, it's  _ kind of  _ necessary for me to find him before I can talk to him."

"Perhaps I haven't been clear enough." Metatron folded his hands, letting them rest on the desk. "As far as Castiel is going to be concerned, he'll think I've engineered the whole thing in his mind."

It took Gabriel a moment to understand. "You want me to just  _ think _ he's talking to me."

"Exactly." Metatron wiped some imaginary dust off his overly fancy desk. "I can't have him knowing you're really alive, of course. It would give him far too much hope. "

"You want me to rummage around in my brother's mind and mess with his perception?" Gabriel would have crossed his arms if that didn't mean burning even more of himself.

"An illusion or a dream would be perfectly serviceable." Metatron's face had creased into a frown, and the ring of holy fire ate into another inch or so of the carpet.

Gabriel's eyes flickered down to the fire, then back to Metatron.

"Fuck you."

"I assume that means you'll do it."

Gabriel glared at Metatron as fiercely as he could, but didn't verbally reply.

Metatron sat back, satisfied. "Turn around, then."

Gabriel frowned, and turned only in curiosity.

He turned right back around with the stormiest glare he could muster, fury rising up in his chest. He was going to  _ throttle  _ Metatron. "What the hell did you do to him?"

Castiel was sitting propped up on a leather sofa, tied and gagged, but that wasn't what Gabriel had meant - what he was staring at in horror was the wrong Grace burning away at Castiel, awkwardly and uncomfortably crammed into the shape of his true form, and how bad Castiel looked - his wings alone would have been enough to make a lesser angel panic outright.

"I haven't done anything to Castiel." Metatron didn't even bother to sound worried. "He's just been running himself a bit thin."

"Where the fuck is his Grace?"

"I wouldn't know," Metatron answered mildly, coming around the desk to stand just outside the holy fire. "And you have more important things to concentrate on right now."

With the eyes of an astonished Gabriel on him, Metatron blew out the holy fire like it was just a candle, and reached for Gabriel's forehead with two fingers. Gabriel leaned away.

"Don't be like that." Metatron grabbed his shoulder and pulled him closer, touching his forehead. Gabriel's mind was flooded with memories of things he hadn't seen and a conversation he hadn't had.

"Everything you missed while playing dead," Metatron explained as Gabriel adjusted to the sudden mental influx, wincing at the brief ache that it caused. “To make it easier to play along.”

"I could have done without that," Gabriel grumbled, letting his wings relax slightly and then wincing minutely when the binding made itself known again. What exactly did Metatron want him to play along with? "Not going to take these off, are you?"

"Castiel won't notice them unless you let him - which you won't." The tone of Metatron's voice made Gabriel want to punch him - he sounded so freaking smug, thinking he could just order Gabriel around. "And they're staying on, Gabriel, because we both know what you'd do to me if I took them off."

Gabriel didn't blame him for having a sense of self-preservation, but he did wish that Metatron's wasn't quite as sharp.

Sighing, he put a hand on Castiel's forehead and flipped Metatron off before diving into his brother's mind.

* * *

 

The first glance of Castiel made Gabriel ache with the urge to tell him the truth flat-out, but he swallowed it back. Gabriel's mind jumped to the last time they had seen each other - which, coincidentally enough, had also involved Gabriel being trapped in a ring of holy fire.

"I thought you were dead." Castiel dropped his bag as he stepped closer, disbelief clear in his face.

"Please," Gabriel said by way of answer. "You can't take the trick out of the Trickster."

Castiel glanced down, face hardening slightly. "So it was a trick - I assume you faked your death."

"And I assume you weren't let into Mensa while I was gone," Gabriel snorted, the joking cover coming easily after so much time using it.

"But where have you been?" Castiel asked.

_ "Oh, _ you know..." Gabriel wandered around the 'hotel room' as he talked. "Hither, with a side of yon." 

Castiel frowned at that, and Gabriel mentally sighed. Would it kill him to pick up on a bit of pop culture?

"I was in hiding, Captain Side-Eyes," he clarified. "In the  _ safest  _ place in the universe - Heaven!" He  _ hoped  _ Castiel would pick up on the ridiculous lie. He took a few steps forward, leaning on the back of a 'chair'. "But then  _ you  _ and the  _ other _ two stooges had to go and ruin Christmas, didn't you?"

Castiel no doubt held back whatever question he had about the reference, looking down at his feet. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Oh, cry me a river." Gabriel spun around, coming a full 360 to look back at Castiel once he'd taken a few steps. "Look. I dropped, I hid. I finally watched Downton Abbey!" He let himself fall backwards to sit on the 'sofa'. "But then Metatron sent his minions out looking for me. He thinks that since I'm an archangel-"

"That you'd have extra power," Castiel finished, understanding crossing his face.

"Yeah. But  _ I _ got hurt in the Fall too." Gabriel crossed his legs and resisted reaching back towards his wings, which were in a lot more pain than the Fall had ever caused. "Used most of what was left of my power to go underground. Point is, I've been on the run." A blatant lie, but what else was he supposed to say? "But then  _ somebody  _ started playing my song."

"The angel siren." Castiel nodded in understanding.

Gabriel stared. Had his little brother really forgotten? Admittedly, he'd never seen it used like this, but still..."Uh, _ no _ . The Horn of Gabriel." Gabriel prayed that Castiel remembered enough to take his hint. "One of Dad's little party favors that I never got around to using. Metatron dug it up, and started blowing." He spread his hands, just keeping them close enough together that he didn't tug at the chains. "So...I came out of hiding."

"It wasn't Metatron." Castiel seemed eager to share what he knew. "It was his second-in-command, Gadreel."

" _ Gadreel?" He'd  _ gotten loose? That was one piece of information that Metatron hadn't included in his little info-dump. Gabriel stored it away to remember later and brought his attention back to the situation at hand. "It doesn't matter who's using it, Castiel, it matters  _ how.  _ The Horn's supposed to be used to unite angels...not kill them."

"So what do you want?" Castiel was open, completely prepared to do whatever Gabriel might ask, and it almost broke Gabriel's will to go through with the farce.

Instead, he stood up. "Your help," he said, seriousness replacing the airy demeanor he'd had on seconds before. "I'm getting the team back together. What do you say we take care of Metatron once and for all?"

* * *

 

The 'car' was a surprise.

Castiel's wings were useless now, obviously, but Gabriel honestly hadn't considered how Castiel was getting around. At least his vessel had known how to drive.

He glanced over and saw Castiel holding a 'phone' to his ear. "Dean - It's me. I'm heading your-"

"Whoa, whoa!" Gabriel snatched the 'phone' away. "Hands free much? Both on the wheel, I'm precious cargo."

Castiel might have rolled his eyes as he gripped the steering wheel again, and Gabriel was glad to see he'd at least had some influence on the mostly way-too-serious angel.

Gabriel grinned as he spoke into the phone. Even if this wasn't real, he could still have some fun with it; no one said he had to leave the message on the  _ imaginary  _ phone, as opposed to the one Castiel was trying to call. He wondered what Dean would think of the voicemail. "Heey, what's up, shorties? Remember me? The guy who died for your sins? No, not the one with the beard and sandals - the hot one. Anyhow, your boytoy and I are rolling towards your top-secret domicile - ooh. I didn't know you boys had a batcave. Call to discuss." He snapped the phone closed and put it back in Castiel's pocket.

"So," Castiel said after a moment. "You've been back for months. What have you seen?"

"After it was raining winged men, hallelujah?" Gabriel snorted. "Crowley and Abbadouche duking it out.  _ Our _ bros scattered like confetti. Nigh-biblical chaos. Good times," he finished sarcastically.

"It's been confusing," Castiel admitted.

"You think?" Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Most angels can't handle this whole free-will thing, Cas. They're used to being soldiers. Not like us."

"I'm nothing more than that."

"Bitch,  _ please."  _ Gabriel gave Castiel his best  _ seriously?  _ look, which didn't do much as Castiel was driving and therefore not looking back at Gabriel. "You've been God more often than Dad has." And wasn’t  _ that  _ something to suddenly remember that he hadn’t known before.

"Yeah, and look how well that turned out." Even Castiel’s vessel looked a bit worn and tired, in what little light shone in from passing streetlights.

"Well, fine." Gabriel threw his hands up slightly as he turned back to face the road as well. "Be a soldier all you want. I'm gonna need 'em."

"What for?" Castiel glanced over.

Gabriel didn't look at Castiel as he spoke. "I always run." He said eventually. "From Heaven. From Dad. I'm tired of it. I'm going to lead like I was meant to." Ha. As if.

"Well, we need a leader." Gabriel could hear the relief in Castiel's voice and it tore into him. "I'm glad it's going to be you."

Gabriel kept staring out the window, spying a 'gas station' in the distance. Part of him wanted to just stay in the 'car' for a little longer and just talk to Cas - who he hadn't seen in over a decade, from his point of view - but the rational part told him that Metatron would probably roast both of them with holy fire if he thought Gabriel was taking to long.

"Little low on gas, aren't we?"

* * *

 

Gabriel grinned as he stepped into the 'convenience store'. "Oooh! Smell that cancer." He breathed in deeply. "Delicious." He really did miss regular junk food. Though magical snacks did have a much higher entertainment value.

Castiel didn't even comment on it, stepping towards the back of the 'store' to glance over what they had. A 'truck' pulled up outside and Gabriel glanced over at it, changing his body language and pretending to stiffen in surprise.

"Uh...remember those minions of Metatron I mentioned?" Castiel just looked at him, puzzled, so Gabriel grabbed his face and physically turned Castiel around to see the 'people' climbing out of the 'truck'.

Gabriel locked the 'door' physically, since with the bindings he couldn't have locked it with his Grace if he tried, not with all the energy he was simultaneously expending on keeping the illusion up. He backed up from the door quickly. Castiel stood with his angel blade unsheathed on the other side of the 'shelf'.

"We'll never keep these guys out of here," Gabriel muttered.

"Then we fight," Said Castiel determination practically shining out of him.

"No.  _ I  _ fight," Gabriel retorted. "I lied earlier."

Castiel glanced over at him in a sort of horror.

"I never watched Downton Abbey." Gabriel flashed a grin at him. "And oh, yeah - I  _ do  _ have a little extra mojo. I can hold these morons off long enough."

"Long enough for what?"

"For you to get the hell out of here."

"No." By now they had both backed past the 'shelf', and Castiel resolutely faced Gabriel. "I'm not leaving."

"Cas-" Gabriel grabbed his shoulder. "Listen to me - the angels need a leader, and it's got to be someone like us. Someone who's not just another drone."

"I can't." Castiel had immediately understood what Gabriel meant. "No."

"I know you don't want this burden, Castiel, and neither do I." Gabriel started back at Castiel's intense x-ray gaze. "But it's got to be done by someone."

"What if I fail?" Castiel took a moment to answer and when he did his voice was much rougher.

"You won't." Gabriel grinned. "Promise."

Castiel took him by surprise by hugging him.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Shut up." It came out much more affectionately than Gabriel had intended.

Castiel turned around and then stopped. Gabriel frowned, adopting a fake-defensive posture against the 'minions' who were arguing in front of the 'door'.

"Any day now, hot pants!"

"Was any of this real?" Castiel's voice was dark. He had turned back around.

"What are you talking about?" The glass of the 'door' broke with a crash and Gabriel braced himself, instinct ruling for one moment as he spread his wings slightly and whirled around to shove Castiel in the chest. His younger brother didn't move at all, and why would he? Gabriel's Grace was so restricted he doubted he could have shoved Dean Winchester over. "Cas,  _ go!" _

Castiel didn't move a muscle, staring impassively down at Gabriel.

"So, what?" Gabriel demanded angrily, letting himself get too involved in the role. "We both die here?"

"No." Castiel's voice was sad. "You're already dead."

His angel blade went right through Gabriel - he was, after all, an 'illusion', and you can't stab what isn't real.

"Well." Gabriel turned around and snapped, vanishing the 'minions'. He faced Castiel again, not letting any of his relief or confusion show. "What gave it all away?"

"My coat was torn earlier." Castiel showed the absolutely flawless interior layer of his coat.

"Aw, man." Gabriel hadn't done that, which meant it must have been Metatron's pathetic attempt to mimic his usual method. "I hate continuity errors."

"So." Castiel looked at him coldly. "None of this was real...and I'm guessing I'm no longer in the motel."

"Here's the thing." The words were almost physically painful as they left Gabriel's mouth. "None of it was real, but all of it was true."

"Whose truth?" Castiel challenged.

"Just give Metatron a chance, will you?"  _ No. Do not give him a chance. Get back at the bastard first chance you get.  _ "He's trying to help."

"Really?" Gabriel had never seen one of his brothers challenge skepticism so well since the last time he tried to convince Balthazar that no, he did not want to get back together with Sigyn. "How?"

"Er..." Gabriel grinned. "Sorry. Didn't read the whole script. Just sort of...skimmed for my parts." He patted Castiel on the shoulder. "Good to see you again, bro."

"Wait." Gabriel paused in the act of snapping his fingers and saw Castiel looking at him almost desperately. "Are you dead?"

_ No, no, I'm not.  _ Gabriel resisted the urge to tell the truth and raised his eyebrows, as if to say  _ What do you think? _ and snapped his fingers.

_ Sorry, Cas. _

* * *

 

Gabriel jolted up from the sofa in the room Metatron had summoned him to and didn't give his brother a single opening to light up the holy fire again

Metatron reeled backwards from the first punch, obviously surprised by the sudden onslaught. Gabriel leaped forward, out of the circle of oil on the floor (unlit, so it wasn't like he was trying to kill himself or anything) and punched Metatron in the face again, sending him backwards into his desk and knocking various items to the floor. The burning pain from the holy fire chains was worth it.

Several of the  _ Supernatural  _ books tumbled off their perch, the bowl from earlier landed on its side and scattered herbs across the floor, and the typewriter hit the chair and then the floor with a rattling metallic thump and crash.

Gabriel didn't spare the time to wonder why Metatron suddenly looked so panicked when the answer immediately presented itself in the form of the holy fire chains going out with a glasslike shattering sound.

For a moment, they just stood there, Metatron backed up against the desk and Gabriel staring at his wrists in surprise.

Then Gabriel decided not to look at gift horse in the mouth and snapped out one arm, throwing Metatron across the room. His Grace was wilder than usual, after being contained for even that short a period of time, and the wall cracked under the force with which Metatron hit it.

"Keeping an archangel under control, huh?" He asked tightly, advancing on Metatron and noticing Castiel still knocked out on the sofa. His still-wild Grace made the lights flicker and burst, casting strange, jumpy shadows over the room. "Seems like that's not going so well for you."

Metatron thrust his own arm out and Gabriel stumbled back, but without whatever ritual Metatron had used to overpower Gabriel he was in way, way over his head.

"You think you're  _ my  _ equal just because you've got some fancy new power source?" Gabriel scowled, pinning Metatron against the wall with the smallest thought. "Don't. Make. Me. Laugh."

"Go ahead," Metatron challenged, recovering his bravado. "There's nothing stopping you, Gabriel! Go ahead and prove that I was right about all of you!"

"Right about what?" Gabriel retorted. "You may call us arrogant, but what about you? Calling yourself Heaven's new ruler? Sounds pretty pretentious to me."

"I  _ deserve  _ the position." Metatron's face was twisted in a scowl as well. "After what you did? I was run out of my own home!"

"No one  _ made  _ you leave!"

"Well, what choice did I have?" Metatron snapped. "God was gone, how long would it have taken for me to be handed over to Naomi? For Michael and all of you to try and extract the secrets that He imparted to me? I  _ was  _ forced into exile, and no one will admit it!"

"You're preaching to the choir," Gabriel growled. "In case you forgot, you're not the only one who left Heaven, so suck it up and stop whining. Boo hoo, you had to spend a few millenia on Earth, get over it!"

"It's not  _ about  _ Earth, Gabriel."

"Oh, no, it's about Heaven and you being the best ruler you possibly can! Because forcibly kicking everyone out and stripping their wings from them is a much better deal, right?" Gabriel was practically looming over Metatron. "It's about  _ you,  _ little bro, and your need to prove that you're better than everyone else!"

Metatron glared fiercely, but it wasn't that intimidating. His hand moved slightly and Gabriel's eyes shot to something that looked vaguely like an angel-banishing sigil right before Metatron pressed it and he was tossed away from the room in a flash of Grace.

* * *

"Damn. I let him distract me. I  _ knew  _ I shouldn't have let him keep talking." Gabriel shook his head, managing to keep himself from floating around randomly in whatever backwater corner of the universe he'd landed in after bouncing off the barrier the spell kept around Heaven - which had  _ sucked royally _ . "He's one annoying bastard, though."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, please!


	49. Discoveries and the Ministry's Mysteries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was the last chapter mean? Yes. Do I regret it?
> 
> ......:)
> 
> Like I said, 49 is the lucky number, so to celebrate you guys holding up with my last couple chapters you get an extra-long one this time!
> 
> This chapter, though. Can I say there's some plot twists ahead that I doubt any of you guessed?

It took Gabriel a week or two to find the right Earth, much less Hogwarts, but by that time he'd made up for the time differences caused by interplanetary travel (lucky thing it hadn't been as long as the  _ last  _ time this had happened) and so no one missed his absence.

Michael might have suspected something - the double Gabriel had left behind had vanished and therefore 'skipped' half a day, but Gabriel just waved off questions and said he'd been caught up in something urgent and besides, you'd better help me with this because Hermione might actually try and kill me if she thinks I've been skiving homework.

Hermione, as it turned out, had other things on her mind.

Like convincing Cedric Diggory to give an interview with Luna's dad's magazine.

"I don't think I really had a choice," Cedric said. He had started attempting to hang out with Gabriel more, and Gabriel let him. "Hermione can be pretty insistent when she wants to be." 

"You haven't seen her yet when she finds out someone's been procrastinating." Gabriel smirked over his book at the Hufflepuff. "And if you're smart, you'll make sure that person is never you."

"...Got it."

The interview had gained Cedric even more attention than was usually paid to him, since his infamy from being involved in the Triwizard mess only went so far. Ackerly had immediately banned the magazine, but Ron had been the only one confused as to why this was a good thing.

"Oh, Ron, don't you see?" Hermione explained, when he happened to mention his confusion. "If there's one way to make sure absolutely everyone reads it, it's by banning it!"

Hermione, as usual, was absolutely right; people were quoting it everywhere, and Luna had excitedly told Gabriel over dinner about how a copy had never sold so quickly.

"We're having to reprint! Daddy's amazed, he says people seem more interested in this than even Crumple-Horned Snorcacks!"

Hermione had her own reasons as to the sudden interest in Cedric's side of the story. "People are starting to think that something's up," she told Gabriel. "The Ministry had the world's poorest excuse for the breakout from Azkaban, and people are nervous about so many Death Eaters out again - they're starting to think that maybe Dumbledore's right."

"And this occurred to no one earlier?"

"They didn't have another side of the story earlier." Hermione shook her head. “I know it’s terrible what they’ve been saying about you, but we have to think of the other perspective. Right now, they believe us because we’re making more sense than the Ministry.”

“I know.” Gabriel folded his hands behind his head, and grinned. “I like feeling like we’re winning.”

* * *

 

The drama with Trelawney's firing had passed Gabriel by completely; he'd been busy trying to figure out if he could send Metatron a hex, but apparently spells didn't last across that much space, and he didn't dare go back until he was sure that whatever extra power source Metatron had was gone.

Still, everyone seemed to be chatting about it (Trelawney, not Metatron) during the DA meeting. Gabriel cleared his throat pointedly and the two nearby Hufflepuffs looked over at him, startled. "I'm sure you're having fun, but have either of you tried the Patronus yet?"

"Right," One of them said quickly, lifting her wand. "Expecto Patronum!"

She managed to conjure a wisp of silver, disappointment crossing her features when no animal appeared.

"Try again," Gabriel said, giving her a smile. "No one gets it on the first try."

He was moving through the crowd of students in the chamber, offering occasional advice and making sure they were actually trying to do the spell and not just talking. They were all doing pretty well, better than Gabriel had expected, although he would admit he had a tendency underestimate wizards. Just a little bit. 

"Harry!" Hermione appeared out of the crowd. "I've done it!" She waved her wand, excitement lighting up her features. " _ Expecto Patronum!" _

A silver otter burst out of the tip, leaving a misty trail in its wake as it swam through the air. Gabriel leaned to the side as it darted past him and grinned. "Nice. An otter, huh?"

Before Hermione could answer, a noise echoed through the chamber.

Gabriel frowned, turning towards where the passage led back up to the school. Silver conjurations were blinking out as students looked around, and the noise echoed one more time.

A distant, hollow  _ thud. _

Someone was trying to get in.

Several people obviously had the same realization as Gabriel, conversation breaking out in loud, worried tones.

"Who's that?"

"How'd they know where to go?"

"Someone must have told them!"

"I bet it was the snake..." someone muttered, and Gabriel swung around to face them.

"Enough," he snapped, quickly finding Draco in the crowd and identifying the real missing member almost immediately. "Cho!" His call got everyone's attention, and the Ravenclaw looked back at him, her wand held tight in one hand. "Where's your friend? The redhead?"

He saw everyone come to the exact same realization when they realized that Marietta wasn't there. Cho froze, glancing around as if that would make the ginger girl pop up out of nowhere.

Gabriel made a quick decision and snapped his fingers.

Time froze.

Gabriel, who to his advantage existed outside of silly things like time, walked over to the opening of the pipe and glanced up at the top. It was hardly difficult to recognize the group standing at the closed entrance. Ackerly and her little gang of Slytherins, what a surprise. They had one person missing, who had probably given them away; whatever they did next, they wouldn’t be able to come back to the Chamber.

Gabriel turned back to the frozen students and considered what to do. Making up his mind quickly, he snapped again, and all of the Gryffindors vanished back to their Tower. Same for the Ravenclaws, and Gabriel had to pause to draw the location of their dorm out of the mind of the nearest Hufflepuff before giving them the same treatment, remembering to make sure that everyone would just wake up in their beds in a few hours none the wiser to what had happened. Draco was the easiest to send off, as he didn't have any Housemates to go with him.

He loved having power again.

When only Michael and Hermione were left, he returned time to its normal speed and watched as they jumped at his sudden proximity, staring around wildly at the suddenly-empty chamber.

"Where'd everyone go?" Michael demanded.

"I took care of the situation." Gabriel put a hand to each of their heads and flew them all to a random classroom, staggering slightly at the protest his wings put up.

He hadn't expected the damage from the binding spell to be so long-lasting.

"Harry!" Hermione's alarmed voice made Gabriel realize he was leaning rather heavily on a nearby chair. He winced when Hermione grabbed his wrist.

" _ Christ -  _ not there!"

Hermione let go very quickly. Michael's hand had somehow found its way to Gabriel's shoulder, and ne looked like ne was ready for Gabriel to faint or something. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Mate, you looked like you were about to fall over." Michael's voice was worried. "That's not 'nothing'."

"It's nothing for you to worry about."

"Oh, would you stop it!" Hermione burst out. "You keep telling us not to worry about stuff! We're your friends,  _ Gabriel,  _ you can trust us!"

She had called him Gabriel again.

Gabriel shook Michael's hand off his shoulder and sat down in the chair he'd been leaning on, reclining as far as he could against it. "Not right now," he said eventually. "I promise, I'll explain it, just...not right now."

"When, then?" Hermione asked in an only marginally softer voice.

"Later."

" _ When?" _

"Tomorrow, alright?" Gabriel threw his hands up in frustration, which turned out to be a bad idea as it made his sleeves pull away from his wrists.

Hermione and Michael were both staring in horror at the burned skin, and Gabriel quickly pulled his sleeves back up. It wasn’t black or anything, but the burns were an angry red and almost shiny.

"You're hurt!" Michael looked even more upset now. "You said it was  _ nothing!  _ That looks horrible!"

"It'll heal," Gabriel said harshly.

"You should have gone to someone!" Hermione's hands had jumped to her mouth. "Harry, that looks really bad, and if it hurt just from me grabbing it-"

"It's  _ fine!"  _ Gabriel snapped, and he immediately regretted it - both Michael and Hermione had jumped slightly from the power he'd unconsciously put in the words.

Gabriel put his head in his hands and took a deep breath. "Just...it's late. Can you let it go for a few hours?"

"Let it go?" Hermione looked aghast, but Michael held out a hand. Ne stared at Gabriel seriously.

"Tomorrow," he said. "Then you're explaining  _ everything." _

"Alright."

* * *

 

They had to sneak back to their respective dorms, because when Gabriel offered to just fly them back Hermione glared and said if it hurt that much just to bring them up here then he was not doing any more flying. Gabriel went with it because sometimes it was better to just agree with Hermione.

The next day was Saturday, which meant that Michael was waiting down in the common room to make sure Gabriel didn't try and skive on his promise.

"I wasn't planning to."

"Yeah, but it's you. You never know."

Michael and Hermione had obviously talked about this at some point, because Michael walked out to the lake confidently.

"We thought it might be better to go somewhere it'd be less likely to be overheard," Ne explained when Gabriel asked. "I mean, it would be kind of weird if someone walked in on us."

Smart thinking, and the chill left over from winter was numbing the burns a little, even if it didn't usually affect Gabriel.

Hermione was out nearly as quickly as them, and for some reason she was carrying what looked like a first-aid kit.

"What on Earth-" Gabriel's incredulous response was cut off as he hurried to catch the kit that had been tossed up so that Hermione's hands were free for climbing up onto the rock that he and Michael were already perched on.

"It's for you," She huffed as she pulled herself up. "I figured you wouldn't go to Madam Pomfrey so I managed to get one from the hospital wing without her noticing."

"That's-" Hermione's glare made Gabriel stop midsentence. He sighed. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"No." Hermione sat down and pulled the kit away. "Give me your wrist."

"And you promise you'd explain," Michael reminded him.

"Yes I know, Michael, I was there." Gabriel extended both his wrists towards Hermione, who gave him a look but didn't say anything about not knowing that it was both that were hurt.

Hermione carefully pulled back his sleeves and squeezed her eyes shut as the thick burns came into view.

"I can do it-"

"No, I'm fine." Hermione took a deep breath and opened the kit.

"You sure you know what you're doing?"

"I looked it up this morning." She took a small jar out of the kit and began twisting the lid off.

"That's not going to help."

Hermione shot a look at him. "How do you know?"

"These are holy fire burns. Magic isn't going to do shit for them."

Hermione frowned. "Well, it might do  _ something.  _ This is just normal burn salve, not the magical kind, I don’t think. It’s not like using a spell. What's holy fire?"

"Exactly what it sounds like." Gabriel let his hands rest in Hermione's lap and winced as she started rubbing the cream into the burns. "It's also one of the only things that can hurt angels."

"So what happened?" Michael shifted closer. "You said you had to go somewhere, and then just vanished."

"Yeah." Gabriel considered his reply. "Well, I should probably start off by explaining the whole idea behind alternate worlds or this discussion is going to go nowhere."

Hermione gaped at him. "You went to an alternate universe?"

"Yeah, basically."

Hermione tried to say something, faltered, and then shook her head. "Okay, you can explain  _ that  _ later. Why leave, though?"

"There's something of mine called the Horn of Gabriel - it's an old angelic weapon, basically. Something was drawing off its power, and I went to see what was up."

"That's it?" Michael's eyes seemed to be drawn to Gabriel's injury.

"Not exactly. Thing is, my siblings are kind of in this gigantic spat, and one of them is in the center of it all. He's the one who was drawing off my Horn's power, and he was expecting me to show up." Gabriel inclined his head towards his half-bandaged wrists. "And if you put an angel in a circle of holy fire, they can't leave."

"That's what this is from?" Hermione looked upset. "One of your brothers?"

"Yeah. He had me in the circle, and then basically tied me up in more holy fire to make sure I couldn't do anything."

"That seems like overkill." Michael muttered, and then looked up sharply. "I mean-"

"No offense taken." Gabriel grinned halfheartedly. "It was, really, but he was just watching out for himself, 'cause if I'd managed to get out of the holy fire I would have kicked his ass."

Hermione was quiet as she worked, but she spoke after a moment. "I get what you mean when you said you didn't get along."

"Nah, I'm not like that with most of them, but most of them haven't trapped me in holy fire."

"What about that other guy? The one at your house," Michael clarified. "He called you 'brother'."

"You mean Balthazar?" Gabriel shrugged. "He's cool with me. Also I helped him fake his death, so he sort of owes me."

Hermione was biting her lip, frowning fiercely at the burns around Gabriel's wrists. He carefully pulled his hands away, tugging his sleeves back up. The fabric immediately began to stick to his wrists. "Thanks."

"You mentioned," she said slowly, "that your siblings were in a big fight. What happened then?"

Gabriel almost refused to tell them, but thought the better of it. They had been right - they were his friends, and maybe he trusted them a little more than he'd thought. "Do you remember," he said eventually, "When you talked to me before the third task last year and demanded to know why I'd been acting off?"

Michael frowned. "Yeah," Ne answered. "You said everyone had been cut off or something."

"More than something,” Gabriel sighed. "It's - it's a long story. Basically, the brother that I mentioned earlier - the one who trapped me - his name is Metatron. And last year, he made some sort of spell which basically kicked everyone out of Heaven." Gabriel spread his hands. "Every single angel - except for me and anyone else who wasn't in Heaven at the time - Falling at once. Most of us lost our wings. And everyone's trying to figure out what the hell to do and teaming up against each other."

Michael was staring at Gabriel. "No wonder you were acting so weird."

"Yeah." Gabriel blew out a breath. "It's basically the most fucked-up things could have possibly gotten."

"You said that...some angels lost their wings." Hermione changed the topic. "But you can still fly. That's what that teleporting thing you do is, right?"

"Yeah." Gabriel absentmindedly put a hand to his back. "I was lucky - I wasn't in Heaven when all this went down, so I avoided the worst of it. But... my wings still got kind of fucked up. I lost the third pair."

"The what?" Michael looked startled.

"Come on, Michael, I'm an archangel. You think I'm going to be down with just two wings?" Gabriel smirked, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "Nah. I've still got the other four, it's just a little harder to get places."

"You shouldn't fly, then," Hermione said severely. "If it hurts, then you're probably just making it worse."

"Who are you, Madam Pomfrey?"

"Just promise me!"

"Okay, okay!" Gabriel held up his hands in surrender. "I promise."

"Good. So...what were you saying about alternate universes again?"

* * *

 

They were out by the lake almost all day, until Michael and Hermione (human as they were) started shivering and they had to retreat back into the castle. The members of the DA who were unfortunate enough to not be in on the secret were probably in a ridiculous amount of confusion - though Ron had probably guessed that Gabriel had something to do with it - and yet no one managed to track the three of them to ask the questions that everyone would no doubt be dying to.

Gabriel was keeping a close ear on angel radio, but nothing interesting was happening - nothing, at least, that angels were willing to share over a wavelength so easily eavesdropped on by other angels. Things had gone almost suspiciously quiet, but there wasn’t much he could do to solve that particular problem.

Ackerly was fuming at the head table the next time Gabriel bothered to glance over at her, but nothing else happened - and why should there have been any fallout? Even if, by some miracle, she and a bunch of underage wizards  _ had  _ managed to get past the warding Gabriel put on the pipe down to the chamber, there would have been no secret club to find, much less any members.

The only real result was that Filch was constantly lurking around the second-floor bathroom now, and while Gabriel could have walked right past him without the caretaker noticing he doubted any of the other members could be nearly that sneaky.

Luckily, Gabriel had the perfect idea of where to have the club instead.

That room on the seventh floor, if it could still change its dimensions, would do nicely.

Gabriel got tired quickly of people trying to ‘discreetly’ ask him about the next meeting, or if there would even  _ be  _ a second meeting. He had to dig through his trunk a little to find the charmed Galleon, but as soon as the date changed he started getting less discreet questions and more questioning glances, but  _ those  _ could be given over a distance.

The room on the seventh floor had changed itself yet again when Gabriel arrived, but at least this time he'd figured out that you had to walk in front of it a few times before the door would appear. This time, it was a large spacious room covered in bookshelves and with large cushions in a pile at one end.

Gabriel whistled. "Wow. This place keeps outdoing my expectations."

Hermione's mouth had dropped open as she came in behind him. "Why weren't we in here  _ before?" _

"Long story short, I kind of forgot the place existed."

" _ How?" _

"I said it was a long story."

The rest of the members were equally thrilled with the new meeting room, and Gabriel had to admit it was much more convenient to meet in a room that could make almost anything you needed magically appear.

"Alright!" Gabriel's yell echoed through the room, bringing a sudden silence. "Yeah, I know we almost got discovered for real, but since Marietta has been officially removed from the list and no one's seen her since then I'm going to assume that none of you are going to sell us out." He wasn’t sure if she was avoiding being seen because of whatever Hermione’s magical agreement had done to her, or if breaking the agreement had just killed her, but he was leaning towards the former, if only because Hermione was fifteen and had a sense of morals.

"Hell no!" Someone yelled, and there were scattered agreements and solemn nods. Gabriel gestured for quiet again.

"Anyway," he continued, "We're gonna use this room from now on unless something  _ else  _ comes up, and Hermione's already asked why we weren't in here before so I'll save you guys the trouble of asking; I forgot about it."

Gabriel got several incredulous looks for that, but he kept going.

"So! Patronuses! I really doubt everyone's got theirs yet and unless you can all give me concrete proof, we're gonna keep going." Gabriel hopped down from the small, stagelike thing that had manifested itself earlier when Gabriel had realized that he'd need to be taller to talk to everyone properly. "Keep going from wherever you left off."

People scattered into smaller knots, talking to each other at a fever pitch. The subject of how they'd all gotten back into their dorms from the chamber was suspiciously absent from any conversation, but if Gabriel had done a little tweaking to persuade everyone that nothing unusual had happened, then who would blame him?

What was he supposed to do, tell them the truth?

As if.

Draco had shown for the meeting, despite his apparent doubts. Gabriel could see, when he watched the lone Slytherin, what Draco meant by people not trusting him. There was a clear space around him in a near-perfect circle, like nobody wanted to get too close.

Gabriel had been thinking of what he might be able to do for the kid - whisking him away from his family was definitely on the list. He could just take Draco somewhere straight from the train station when they left for home, but his parents would probably be there to pick him up. 

Still, it was  _ an  _ idea, at least. Gabriel directed his footsteps towards Draco. He’d let him know, and they would figure it out from there.

* * *

 

Finals week rushed upon them with the force of a small tropical storm, and just like if there had been a real hurricane over Hogwarts, Gabriel was completely unbothered by it.

Hermione, however, was not an archangel in a hurricane and let herself be nearly swept away in sleepless fits of revision until Gabriel threatened to stage another intervention like he had in third year and she reluctantly came out to the lake with them again - 'them' being Gabriel and Michael, this time accompanied by Luna.

"It's not good to study for too long," Luna said cheerfully as she helped pull Hermione outside. "You've got to take breaks, otherwise you start attracting Dexflies."

"There's no such-"

"Hermione, give it a rest already." Gabriel rolled his eyes and let go of Hermione's arm as they reached the side of the lake. "Finals are half over already, how long will it take you to stop worrying?"

"These are you OWLs!" Hermione snapped. "You may not have to worry as much, but these define practically the rest of our career!"

"Do you see anyone else panicking, Hermione?" Gabriel gestured widely. "They-" He stopped suddenly, seeing a shape running - sprinting, more like - out of the castle.

Michael frowned. "Is that Ackerly?"

"It is." Gabriel kept his eyes on the figure as she moved quickly towards the gates, where a carriage already waited.

"But she never leaves the school, practically." Hermione objected. She and Luna, by now, were also staring after their Defense teacher - if she could be called that. "She doesn't even go to Hogsmeade."

"It's not the Nargles," Luna said calmly. "There must be an emergency."

"At the Ministry?" Gabriel frowned thoughtfully. "Only thing I can think of that would make her run like that."

Hermione sat bolt upright. "Something wrong at the  _ Ministry?  _ But what?"

Gabriel let a grin spread over his face. "Why don't we go find out?"

* * *

 

" _ Gabriel!" _

"What?"

Hermione slapped his arm. "I told you you shouldn’t fly!”

“It’s fine, Hermione,” Gabriel lied. 

“Where are we?” Michael was looking around in alarm.

“The Ministry, obviously.”

“The  _ what? _ ” Hermione sputtered. “We can’t just break into the Ministry!”

"Says who?" Gabriel shrugged, then glanced behind him at Luna. "You alright?"

"Just a little surprised." Luna breathed deeply and stood up. "That was much more uncomfortable than I thought it would be."

"Tell me about it," Gabriel muttered, and then pretended he hadn't said anything when Michael looked at him sharply. "Does anyone else hear screaming?"

The four of them went silent as one. There were vague yells reverberating through the building, as well as ominous noises that sounded almost like parts of the building were being knocked down.

"I don't like the sound of that," Hermione said nervously.

"Nah, I heard stuff like this happens in the Ministry all the time," Michael said. "Department of Mysteries alone could probably-"

"That's right!" Gabriel perked up. "I meant to check that out a while ago - what do you say we go take a look at what's in there?"

"In the Department of Mysteries? I'm not sure that's a-" Gabriel didn’t hear the rest. He had already vanished to go find it, and after taking a quick break to rest his wings in a room which contained only an ominous-looking aquarium full of...something...which he'd resolved to leave alone, Gabriel darted back to bring the other three with him.

“Does anyone listen to me?” Hermione sighed as they landed in a plain circular room full of doors leading away. “I feel like I’m the only one with sense.”

"Probably," Gabriel said absentmindedly as he pulled at the handle of the nearest door. "Huh. Locked. Wish I could say I was surprised."

Luna was looking around curiously. "I didn't expect the Department to look like this." She sounded disappointed. "I'll have to tell Daddy he was wrong, then."

Gabriel decided to ignore the comment and managed to unlock the door, which swung open to reveal a room that, at first, looked like it was full of glitter.

"Oh, this is much better," Luna said happily.

As they stepped into the room, Gabriel realized it was actually full of clocks. The impression that it was full of glitter was due to the fact that there was light gleaming off of nearly every surface in the room, which was indeed full of every kind of clock there could possibly be - and if there were more, Gabriel was going to have to ask some serious questions about humanity and what made them feel the need to invent so many kinds of timepieces.

"Whoa." Michael looked around the room in surprise. " _ This  _ is what the department spends their time on?"

Gabriel's attention was drawn to a tall glass dome standing on a cart, full of a substance which resembled glitter much more closely and an egg which, in front of his friend's amazed eyes, fell to the bottom of the jar and rose back up while simultaneously hatching, becoming a full-grown bird, and doing the opposite in reverse so that by the time it had reached the top of the jar it was an egg again.

Gabriel heard Hermione suck in a breath. "Oh, Merlin," she said, coming to the same realization that he had. " _ Time." _

Luna was staring at the jar. "Intangible concepts," she said. "Mysteries. So that's where the department gets its name."

"Wizards can't do this." Gabriel didn't realize how close he was to the jar until he noticed his reflection staring back at him.

"Obviously, they have." Hermione stated, as if it should have been obvious.

"No, I mean they  _ cannot.  _ Hermione, there is a reason humans were never given power over time." Gabriel realized he was staring to glare at the jar, and backed away slightly. "Unfortunately, I can't break this because it's  _ magic  _ and I don't know what might happen."

"You don't know?" Luna asked in surprise.

"Luna, I was introduced to the magical world about the same time Hermione was. I have had better things to do than mess with a tiny community of humans with weird powers who are  _ stupid  _ enough to think that trying to play with time is a good idea."

Hermione didn't appear to have a reply, and neither did Luna. Michael's attention had wandered, and ne was now staring past a veritable wall of clocks. "Where does that door lead, do you think?"

There was another door on the other side of the room, and Gabriel strode over to it, sending a warning glance at Luna when she moved towards the jar of time.

The second door led into a dark, dusty room, one full of tall shelves full of white orbs that had a strange, ghostly magic seared into them, though Gabriel doubted any of his friends noticed.

"This looks a lot more mysterious than the last room, honestly," Michael said as Hermione closed the door behind them.

"Depends on your definition of mysterious." Gabriel had to agree - the complete lack of light contrasted with the pale orbs to create an almost spooky air.

Something crashed in the distance. Michael swiveled around to face the direction it had come from; it wasn’t so far away that only Gabriel had been able to hear it, then.

"D'you think that was one of the Unspeakables?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Possibly," said Gabriel. "Let's not go see, how about?"

"Yeah," Michael agreed, relief clear on nir face. None of the three seemed particularly interested by the idea of being caught breaking into the Department of Mysteries.

Luna had drifted off down one of the aisles, and Gabriel walked after her. "See something interesting?"

"These are very bright," Luna commented, trailing a hand along one of the shelves and dislodging a number of tags. Hermione turned one over curiously.

"Celeste Traiman to Eliot Jones," she read. "The state of the stock market...this doesn't make any sense."

Gabriel shrugged. "Lots of things don't unless you have the full story." Something else made a noise, this time more like a rustle and swiftly moving feet, in the darkness.

All four of them looked around again.

"Do you ever get the feeling," Michael began, "That you've messed up, but you're not entirely sure how?"

"Oh, believe me," A voice said from the darkness, "You're about to understand exactly how badly."

They all whipped around at the same moment. Before the other three could so much as draw their wands Gabriel's arm had snapped out and the man who had spoken went sailing back into one of the shelves, crashing into it and nearly knocking it over. The man slid to the floor, out cold, and Gabriel was already bending over him and yanking up his sleeves.

A skull and snake tattoo glared up at them from his left arm.

"We need to leave," Gabriel said tightly, rounding on the other three, who all had their wands out. " _ Now." _

Hermione's wand was trained on the unconscious man. "Then let's go!"

Gabriel tried, but his wings strained to pass a strange barrier as soon as he got past a certain distance, and the ripple of pain it sent through them sent him - and his three passengers - sprawling to the ground in the exact same place.

"What the hell was that?" Hermione was unusually frazzled.

"Something's up," Gabriel muttered, leaning heavily on a shelf. "There's some sort of ward -  _ damnit!  _ I knew I should have done something about this department before."

"So we can't leave?" Michael demanded.

"If I was at full power and didn't have to bring anyone with me, maybe!" Gabriel snapped, and then took a breath, but before he could apologize more feet sounded and Gabriel yanked the other three down the nearest corridor and out of sight.

"Run," he hissed, and they took off, feet pounding loudly on the floor in the black and quiet.

"There's someone there! Macnair!" The man on the floor had obviously been found, and Gabriel didn't want to know who else might be out there.

Another set of footsteps joined theirs, and Gabriel darted down another side aisle, trusting the other three to follow.

"Why are we heading away from the door?"

"I'm sorry, do you have a map of this place? Because I don't!"

Someone darted past their row and stopped dead, staring at them. Gabriel cursed himself for forgetting that he could have turned them all invisible with a thought.

"Hey!" His call somehow conjured two more, who appeared with twin cracks. The two groups were at a stalemate, wands pointed at each other and even though they outnumbered the three death eaters by an archangel. Gabriel didn't want to think about what might happen to Michael or Hermione or Luna.

"Don't move," One of the masked men ordered.

"Or what?" Gabriel asked, wand in one hand and angel blade waiting to drop into the other.

"Or we'll hex you," Another one threatened.

"Hm. Here's a counteroffer." Gabriel gestured to his friends. "Hurt any of them...and I'll kill you."

The third man laughed. "Yeah, right. You, kill us? How? I bet this girl could barely Stun someone if she tried."

Hermione looked breathless with terror while the death eaters laughed.

"Warning number one." Gabriel leveled his wand at the lead death eater. "Try that again and it's one more strike before you're a goner."

The second one scoffed. "As if. You're just stalling."

"Am I?"

The one who has spoken paused, and their leader spoke again. "Enough! Rookwood - take their wands."

"Should we give the girl to Fenrir?"

Gabriel stiffened at the insult - one of  _ them  _ dared to take his son's name? - and Hermione froze again, Michael drawing protectively back towards her.

"Why not." The leader shrugged.

"Strike three," Gabriel said, and the only warning the leader had before the former's angel blade was buried in his head was a flash of silver when Gabriel threw it.

The other two lashed out with spells and loud curses (of the magical and nonmagical variety). Gabriel was already in front of the second and bodily tossing him against the nearest shelf, much harder than he had Macnair, and several of the orbs fell and smashed against the floor. Gabriel smacked their offending magic away, as it only clouded his senses, and turned to Rookwood with a deep scowl. He took a moment to appreciate the man's terrified face as he ripped his mask off.

"Close your eyes!" Gabriel snapped, sparing only a glance to make sure his friends had listened.

Gabriel flattened his hand on Rookwood's forehead and his Grace flashed out, illuminating their surroundings to the point where it was impossible to see anything but white. When it died down, Gabriel let Rookwood drop and whirled around to make sure no one had been blinded. Hermione was staring at the body with her hand over her mouth.

"Come on, I don't think anyone else in here is just going to ignore that!"

More running, past what looked like endless shelves full of endless white orbs, wands shaking in the hands of three teenagers, when they ran straight into several familiar faces.

Kingsley grabbed Luna by the shoulder as they ran past, bringing her and therefore the whole group to a halt. "What are you doing here?"

"Long story, got bored, didn't know there were death eaters," Gabriel explained quickly. "I'm taking a wild guess and assuming the Order got wind of things."

"Yeah, but - get down!" Tonks shouted, sending a spell straight over Gabriel's head and into the face of another death eater.

Spells flew randomly between the two groups but there were only two death eaters and Gabriel quickly disposed of the second once the first had been shot down by a bright red spell, knocking him out with a touch.

He wasn't quite as bad as the others. That didn't mean he'd be waking up anytime soon.

"Come on!" The third member, Lupin, tugged at Luna's arm. "We're getting you out of here."

"We're in total agreement there." Gabriel saw that all three of the Order members were looking at his bloodstained angel blade warily. "What? They didn't believe me when I threatened them."

"Let's just go," Tonks said hurriedly, and they set off back the way the trio had come. "Look, you three, as soon as we get out of here you're apparating out with me, alright?"

"I could take all of them faster." Gabriel argued.

"Harry, no!" Hermione exclaimed, and then looked around nervously in case she'd been too loud and advertised their location to anyone who might be lurking. She continued at a much lower volume. "You said your wings were already hurt-"

"What?" Lupin looked behind him, back towards Gabriel.

"They work well enough to get you guys out of here, and I think the Death Eaters will have put up wards to keep you guys from using your teleport thing - if they're smart enough, which I'm beginning to doubt."

"You shouldn't aggravate a wound-" Kingsley began.

"Oh, enough already! I'm an archangel, I think I can tell when not to do something! What are the death eaters doing here anyway?"

"Hold on, don't go changing the topic," Michael interrupted Tonks' response angrily. "What if we don't want to leave?"

"You're fifteen and underage, you're leaving," Lupin said firmly.

"We've been learning to defend ourselves all year!" Michael protested, quieting suddenly when something crashed in the distance. The entire group froze for a moment, but when nothing else made itself apparent out of the depths of the department, they kept going.

"You are  _ not  _ staying, you won't be able to handle yourselves against the death eaters-"

"Excuse me?" Hermione said indignantly.

"Hermione, these people are ruthless, they will stop at nothing and will not hesitate to kill!" Lupin was starting to look a bit frazzled. "If you think you can hold your own against that-"

Something else moved in the darkness and they all froze again, but Gabriel frowned, staring at a patch of shadow cast by one shelf which appeared to be missing half its orbs on the side closest to them. "Hold on, that wasn't a death eater."

"What?" Everyone else looked at Gabriel. "How can you tell?" Kingsley questioned.

"Because-" The noise came again, interrupting Gabriel and drawing the group's collective attention back to the patch of shadow, which was twisting and moving in ways that shadows were definitely not meant to and forming a definitely human shape.

Hel stepped out.

She looked around, and then at Gabriel.

"Well," she said. "No wonder I had so much trouble getting here."

"Who in Merlin's name-" Lupin was interrupted by Gabriel.

"Hel, what on Earth are you doing here?"

"I  _ was _ looking for you," she said, while everyone who had not already met Hel stared at Gabriel in surprise. "I couldn't find you at your school, so..."

"What, did you use a locating ritual?"

"Something like that."

"What was so urgent - nevermind," Gabriel hissed. "Hel, we're kind of in the middle of a battle right now. You need to-" He cut himself off with a swear. "No, that won't work, if  _ I  _ can't leave then you won't be able to."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing against you, Hel, but this place has some serious wards."

"I got in."

"Yeah, so did I."

"Enough," Kingsley broke in. "She can come with us - and who is this, again?"

"His daughter," Hermione explained as Gabriel spun away from the group, scowling.

"Excuse me?"

* * *

 

"What if I don't want to leave?"

"Hel, you have not been in a single battle in your entire life."

"I know how to fight," Hel said, sounding injured. She had traded her old outfit for her traditional armor, which had garnered some stares from the wizards (and witches) when it had suddenly appeared on her.

"Yes, you do,  _ I _ taught you, but you have never actually  _ been _ in a fight."

" _ Dad-" _

"Have you?"

Hel heaved a sigh. " _ No,  _ but that doesn't mean-"

"Then you're leaving with them."

"Dad! I think I can take care of myself better than a bunch of fifteen-year-olds!"

"How old are you?" Tonks stood her ground when both Hel and Gabriel swung around to look at her. "I mean, she looks like she's old enough to make her own decisions, legal adult and all that...if you are," she added hastily.

Hel looked at Gabriel with a raised eyebrow, as if to say  _ see? I'd like to see you argue against that. _

"You're taking her side, really?" Gabriel asked Tonks rhetorically.

"She has a point." Hel murmured.

"Of course you would say that!" Gabriel had raised his voice to a yell, but he honestly didn't care if someone else heard.

"I'm seven hundred and six, I can make my own decisions!" Hel shouted back.

"Is this really the time?" Lupin asked hurriedly. "Shouting isn't the best idea."

Gabriel and Hel had a brief, intense staring contest, and then Gabriel threw his hands up. "Fine!"

Hel smugly drew her staff from thin air, the curved end almost whacking Michael in the head. "Whoops. Sorry."

"It's fine." Michael was staring at her. "Are you seriously over seven hundred?"

"Is that really what you want to talk about right now?" Gabriel yelled behind him, having walked slightly ahead of everyone else to express his distaste at not being able to insist that Hel leave. "This is practically a battlefield!"

"Yes, it is."

Gabriel whipped around to look at the man in front of him properly. He saw now that the death eaters must have borrowed whatever soul-cloak the Unspeakable from earlier in the year had used, because how else would they have been able to get so close so quickly without him noticing?

Lucius Malfoy was standing there, calm as you please, and eyeing the group disdainfully. "Well," he said, voice smooth and thick with smugness. "Hardly a challenge, are you?"

"Depends on your definition of challenge," Gabriel replied, tightening his grip on his angel blade and wondering how much the man had overheard. Malfoy's eyes snapped to him.

"Ah, yes," He said, and something in his expression had changed to wariness. "The Boy who Lived...except you're not, are you?"

"Smart thinking," Gabriel deadpanned. "Took you a few years, but you got to the answer in the end, obviously."

"Indeed." Malfoy drew himself up, as if preparing for something. "I name you...Loki."

Absolute silence.

"Seriously?" Gabriel finally asked. "You're going to try and Name  _ me?  _ That was the worst attempt I've ever seen." Naming someone, especially trying to Name someone who was infinitely more powerful than yourself, was a tricky bit of magic that the pagans had mostly utilized to gain control over their enemies. Gabriel should have guessed that some idiot would try it eventually when his pagan identity came out.

Malfoy looked startled, as well as slightly nervous. Good. He should be.

"I mean-" Gabriel spread his hands. "Kudos for at least managing to get the name right-" Michael and Hermione shot him sharp looks at that, while the rest of them just looked surprised, and Luna's expression didn't change at all. "-But seriously? Do you even know what you're doing?"

Malfoy took a step backwards, subtly, like he was trying not to show his nervousness, and his robes had hidden most of the movement. "But you  _ are  _ Loki," he said, as if reassuring himself. "A god of the old religions, the Trickster, the Mischief-Maker."

"Yes." Among other things, but it wasn't necessary for Malfoy to know that, and if it kept Voldemort under the delusion that Gabriel was far less than he really was then that was no skin off Gabriel's nose. "Let me guess," Gabriel mused, propping one arm up so he could hold his chin thoughtfully. " _ You  _ thought that naming me would put me under your control." What a laughable idea.

Malfoy didn't reply, but Gabriel could tell that he'd suddenly gone still.

"Thought you could, huh?" Gabriel extended his hand. "How about a demonstration of the right way to do things?" His true voice would be too dangerous to use in this scenario, since Michael, Hermione, and Luna were standing right behind him, but Gabriel could put a fair amount of power behind the words anyway. It wasn’t difficult to shuffle through the man’s mind and find what he needed. "I  _ Name _ you, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy."

Malfoy crumpled to the ground, clutching at his chest, and behind Gabriel. Kingsley started at the movement. Gabriel stayed where he was, his hand having followed Malfoy down.

"And that's just with your name," he said cheerfully. "Imagine what I could do with your  _ true _ one." All the wizards within range stiffened at that implication, and magic was turning out to have far more branches and little pockets or arcane knowledge than Gabriel had expected. "Oh, so you do know about that? I could find it, you know, if I felt like taking a rummage through your soul." Gabriel leaned over Malfoy, who was shaking slightly, but still clearly conscious. Gabriel doubted that the shaking was from pain.

"I may be Loki," he said quietly, but even those words echoed slightly in the dim chamber. "But you presume much to think that  _ you  _ could overpower  _ me." _

He stood up, glancing back at the group and seeing Hel staring intently at the Malfoy patriarch. "What, are you taking notes?"

"Of course not. Just interested."

Gabriel smiled and snapped his fingers, and the other black-robed figures who he had kept frozen in their positions this whole time vanished, following the Auror from earlier in the year to the Antarctic, or perhaps somewhere in between. Gabriel wasn't fussed about making sure all of them made it. "Let's go. I thought we were getting out of here."

Without looking behind him to see if any of them were following, Gabriel started walking again, stepping carelessly over Malfoy, who was still sprawled on the floor.

They ended up in a strange room with an even stranger arch in the center.

"I could have sworn that this was the exit," Lupin said, puzzled, but Gabriel was staring at the arch in the center.

"Will humans  _ ever  _ stop meddling in things like this?" Gabriel huffed, stepping down the narrow staircase. The sides of the room were quite a bit higher than the floor, due to circular rows of seats surrounding the arch and sloping up steeply.

"What-" Kingsley stared as well, or at least Gabriel thought he did - he wasn't looking behind him at the man. "That's the death arch."

"Exactly." Gabriel put as much irritation into the single word as he could. " _ You  _ are not meant to take death this casually - making an arch that kills people. I don't  _ believe _ the audacity of humans sometimes."

"Harry, we should be leaving," Kingsley said slowly. "We don't know if there are still death eaters around-"

"Can you tell?" Tonks asked curiously. “If there are any, I mean?”

"Normally, yes, I would be able to. But they must have borrowed this thing that the department members used - long story - because I can't tell where they are anymore." Gabriel paused on the floor, looked up at the arch without really seeing it. "I could try, but it would take time to break through whatever spells they've got."

Hel had joined Gabriel, and was staring up at the arch as well, but in a thoughtful manner instead of an absentminded one. "It feels a bit like my realm," she muttered.

"Really?" Gabriel spared a more direct glance at the magical creation. "I didn't think it led anywhere in particular."

"No, just that sort of... _ tang  _ of magic." Hel stepped up onto the arch's pedestal to examine it closer, just as a door banged open on the other side of the room.

Gabriel whipped around to look, but already black figures were appearing all over the room - opening the door must have broken whatever enchantment had kept them from using their teleportation, if there had been any in the first place.

Michael and Hermione drew closer to Gabriel, forming a circle which they were all facing out from. Tonks moved towards Luna, as if meaning to grab her and get out, but one death eater darted in between them with a crack and seized Luna around the neck.

"I wouldn't do that."

Gabriel's deathly calm voice had the effect of stilling everyone in the room. The death eater holding Luna - whose panic was now showing clearly on her face - turned to face him, a blank silver mask hiding their face.

"Why?" They asked spitefully. "What could you do?"

"A lot of things." Gabriel raised his angel blade, which was still stained with red. "You could chose not to believe me, of course, but..." He wiggled the blade to draw attention to it. "I don't think you want to repeat your buddy's mistake."

The mask prevented him from seeing the death eater's face, and whatever soul-cloak they had borrowed stopped Gabriel using any other method to tell what they were feeling. The man didn't reply, and he didn’t let go of Luna.

"Have it your way," Gabriel said, and as he leaped across the room at the death eater the door burst open for the second time and the room exploded into chaos.

Luna flinched as Gabriel stabbed the death eater. He quickly pulled her away, kicking the body in the opposite direction.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." Luna's grip around her wand was white-knuckled. She fired a spell straight past Gabriel's head and hit a death eater which had been right behind them. "We should help."

"We should." Gabriel put out a hand almost absentmindedly and snapped, stopping several nasty-feeling spells in their tracks before they could hit their intended victim.

"Couldn't you do more?"

"I could, but honestly, this is the most interesting thing that's happened all year."

They stopped speaking at that point and descended into the melee.

"Reducto!" The rock Luna had flicked her wand at turned to dust with an explosive burst of air, sending the death eaters standing on it flying.

"Nice one!" Gabriel was making his way across the room slowly, trying to see where Hel had gone in all the commotion. "Hel!"

No one answered. Of course they wouldn't, to everyone else it would just seem like Gabriel was swearing. He cursed - for real this time - and took another look around. Where could she have gone?

" _ Stupefy!"  _ Gabriel swatted the spell aside easily. He flicked his hand at the death eater and the man flew backwards, smacking into the wall with a thud.

A screech of what sounded almost like feedback sounded through Gabriel's head and he stumbled, gritting his teeth in irritation. What was going on now? Angel radio had suddenly gone completely silent, and not in a no-one's-talking way - in a something's-up way.

_ Hello? This is Metatron.  _ There was another fingernails-on-a-chalkboard whine of reverb, and Gabriel had to fight to keep his attention of his surroundings. Could Metatron possibly have worse timing?

_ I'd like to take a moment to welcome you all back.  _ Gabriel snapped a death eater's wand and kneed the man in the crotch while he was staring at the piece of wood.  _ I want you to know how moved I am that you've accepted me as your new God. My heart is, as they say, full, which is why I want to share some wonderful news with you. _

And Metatron was officially even crazier than Gabriel had first realized. What the  _ hell  _ was he on about?

A gap in the crowd of fighting wizards opened up and Gabriel frowned as he saw Michael leaning against a rock, distractedly trying to defend nemself while holding a hand to nir head. Hermione was standing in front of him, wand blazing. What had happened to Michael?

_ I'm going on a short trip.  _ Gabriel's insides froze as Michael winced again and held nir forehead tighter the minute Metatron started speaking again.  _ Heaven's door will be temporarily closed, pending my return, but rest assured all will be explained.  _ There was a short pause, and Gabriel hoped that what he'd seen had been just a coincidence, but the minute Metatron's message resumed Michael squeezed nir eyes shut and Gabriel was almost hit with several spells at once as he stared incredulously at nem.

_ And it will be...glorious. _

The regular babble of angels resumed. Gabriel was distracted momentarily from his surprise by a sudden shout.

" _ Forvise! _ " That was Norse. Who would be mimicking this world’s magic with Norse words? Gabriel whirled around and saw Hel standing next to the arch, facing a death eater with wild hair. The death eater skidded backwards, but caught herself before she fell off the edge. In the process, she turned around, and Gabriel recognized Bellatrix Lestrange from her picture in the Prophet.

"Hel-" Gabriel started towards her.

"Little girlie wants to play, then?  _ Stupefy!"  _ Hel dodged, but the move took her closer to the arch. Gabriel darted towards the pedestal, cursing the fact that his wings were basically useless.

"S _ år!"  _ Hel's offensive spell left a gash on Bellatrix's arm which made her screech in anger, clapping her other arm to the wound.

"How  _ dare  _ you!" Bellatrix screamed. She raised her wand to try and curse Hel again.

" _ What do you think you are doing?"  _ Gabriel's hand flew out and he stopped the spells in their tracks. Lightning crackled back towards Bellatrix from the recoil of magic being cut off so abruptly. She brandished her wand forcefully, and the wild magic struck at Hel's shield before Gabriel could do anything. The pressure forced Hel backwards again.

" _ Hel!" _

_ "Stupefy!" _

Hel's left side went through the arch and came out the other side. Her mask clattered as it hit the ground - the stunning spell had hit her helmet and knocked it off.

Bellatrix stared in complete disbelief (and fear, no doubt) as Hel straightened, turning to look at her. Hel’s eyes were narrowed in anger, her dead side cast nearly black in the dim light. She looked terrifying.

"You want to kill someone," Hel said, voice trembling with anger and something unidentifiable. "Try not making your first target a goddess of the dead."

"Or maybe you should have thought about the consequences of  _ attacking my daughter!" _

Bellatrix barely had time to look terrified before Gabriel had whipped out his arm. She followed its trajectory, slamming into the wall so hard that the stone cracked under the force.

There was absolute silence as Bellatrix slumped to the floor, and the other unmasked death eaters looked scared out of their wits, trying to back away from Gabriel as subtly as they could.

Gabriel clicked his fingers once, and they all slumped to the floor, leaving only the bewildered Order members standing.

"Maybe this time," Gabriel said, turning to the nearest Order member, "You lot can  _ actually lock them up." _ He’d  _ told  _ them where to look for most of these fascists before. None of them should have even  _ been _ in the Ministry, much less out of jail.

He turned to face Hel, who had turned her face away so that as little of the left side of it as possible was showing. Gabriel leaned down and picked up her helmet, stepping onto the pedestal in the same movement. He wordlessly offered it to Hel, who took it, but did not put it on.

Dumbledore was staring in amazement - Gabriel hadn't noticed his arrival, but the latter's glare was enough to make Dumbledore realize what he was doing.

"I didn't know you had the ability to survive magical means of...killing," He said carefully, blue eyes switching to Gabriel.

Hel responded quietly before Gabriel could. "It is difficult to kill something which is already dead."

No one seemed quite sure how to respond to that. Hel turned to Gabriel. "Which was leads out of this department?"

Gabriel desperately wanted to say something about what had just happened, but he couldn’t think of anything that she would take well that he could also say in front of so many people. Did she even regret having her dead side shown to so many people?  _ Should _ he say something?

"The edge of the wards is over there," Gabriel said after a moment, indicating behind him. "You should be able to leave once you get past them."

Hel nodded and swept past him. The Order members parted, leaving a path for Hel to leave through, and most seemed torn between slight horror and pity.

Tonks, who was closest to Gabriel, looked at something behind him. "You guys alright?"

Gabriel turned around. Michael and Hermione were there, the former leaning slightly on the latter, and Luna was standing next to them. She was glancing between Michael and Gabriel, head cocked slightly, as if trying to figure out a particularly troublesome puzzle.

Michael was squinting slightly, as if dealing with a headache. "That was weird," ne said, rubbing nir head.

"What was?" Moody asked sharply, thumping up on the other side of Tonks. "Did you get hit with something?"

"I don't know," Michael muttered, and ne glanced at Gabriel as if for an answer. Gabriel, who had been suddenly reminded of what had happened only minutes earlier, realized he was staring back with an expression that could probably be taken the wrong way, and abruptly looked away.

"What happened?" Kingsley asked. "We might be able to identify the spell."

Michael shook nir head. "I don't know," ne repeated. "I just...heard something really weird, and it - I feel like there's a bunch of people talking somewhere really close, but I can't understand them."

Several glances were exchanged, and now the Order as a whole looked rather worried. Moody looked sharply at Gabriel. "You know what's going on, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gabriel said sharply as everyone turned to look at him.

"Why were you looking at him like that, then?" Tonks asked, looking determined.

Gabriel glanced at Michael, and the confusion on his friend's face. His resolve crumpled a little. Ne was still his friend.

"You're doing it no-"

"Yes, alright?" Gabriel snapped. "I know what happened. It's not a spell."

"What is it, then?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

Gabriel took a deep breath and avoided looking at Michael again.

"I've got to go check something."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hel was sort of a last minute addition - sorry if I keep confusing you guys with all this Norse stuff >:)
> 
> As for Michael...
> 
> *laughs evilly as I descend into Hell* I THINK WE ALL KNOW WHO I'M GOING DOWN HERE TO GET.


	50. Michael

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun times, huh?
> 
> I hope you enjoy the Michael and Gabriel scene with the tree. I had to rewrite it like five times - this idea has been in my head for a while, so the original scene got written sometime back in September 2014 and rewritten at various times since then.
> 
> Wow, that was a long time ago. It's been a while since I first posted this. On ff.net I mean. It definitely hasn't been that long since I started posting on here.
> 
> Anyway. Enjoy!

It was so obvious when Gabriel looked that he was surprised he hadn't noticed it before.

The tree was enormous, perched at one end of a small valley that the locals said had been there forever, and Gabriel approached slowly, half out of a long-ago instilled sense that he should be careful and half in complete disbelief, because he  _ knew _ that Grace, and he knew that what he was seeing should be completely impossible.

"Michael," Gabriel muttered to himself, staring up at the tree, and he didn't mean the Ravenclaw he'd befriended over the last five years...although, in a sense, he did.

But Michael, the archangel,  _ couldn't  _ have Fallen, and that wasn't just because the Michael Gabriel remembered probably would have court-martialed the angel who had suggested the merest possibility. It was because, according to everyone who had actually been there, Michael had been tricked into the Cage along with Lucifer years ago.

So it was  _ not possible  _ for Michael's Grace to be sitting there in the tree in front of Gabriel.

It was  _ not possible, _ or at least incredibly unlikely,for him - or rather nem - to have ended up in the exact same place as Gabriel.

Gabriel was going to need a second opinion.

* * *

 

Balthazar didn't jump when Gabriel entered the room, but he did cast a glance at the flickering lights. "Something the matter?"

"I need to talk to you."

Gabriel's serious voice made Balthazar put his drink down. They were in a crowded bar, which was no surprise, considering it was Balthazar he was talking to, but no one seemed to have noticed Gabriel's unorthodox entrance. "Should we go somewhere else?"

"Yes." They were suddenly out behind the bar instead of inside it, and Gabriel gritted his teeth but refused to put a hand to his back. Balthazar seemed to notice anyway.

"Wings bothering you?" His voice was tinted with slight jealously.

"Shut up, I'm not here about that."

"Then what  _ are  _ you here for, Gabriel?" Balthazar glanced at the alley disdainfully. "Certainly not for the pleasure of our surroundings."

Gabriel inhaled slowly. "You heard Metatron's message a few minutes ago."

Balthazar straightened. "Yes," he said after a moment. "He's even more insane than I imagined. Is this because-"

" _ No.  _ Let me  _ finish,  _ Balthazar." Gabriel paused, trying to figure out how to word what he was going to say next. "Do you remember Michael?"

"Your wizard friend? Yes, I do."

“I wasn't the only one who heard it."

Balthazar frowned. " _ They  _ did? That's impossible."

"That's what I said."

"So you, what, came to me for answers?"

"...I went looking, and I found a tree."

Balthazar's posture changed in an instant. "You're joking."

"Unfortunately not."

"Whose?"

Gabriel sucked in another breath and let it out at the same time that he spoke. "Michael's."

"Yes, your schoolfriend, you said that already..." Balthazar trailed off, eyes widening as he realized what Gabriel meant. "Good God, no, you can't possibly be serious."

"Deadly."

Balthazar lunged forward so that he was almost nose-to-nose with Gabriel. " _ How?"  _ He hissed. "Gabriel, you know as well as I do, Michael was  _ locked up  _ in Hell! If he's out and about-"

"I checked," Gabriel snapped back, and the idea had indeed already occurred to him. "I checked, alright, and  _ Lucifer's  _ Grace is nowhere to be found."

"Check again!"

"Balthazar, Lucifer almost  _ killed  _ me! I think I have more reason than you to want to be completely sure that he's not up here!"

Balthazar took a step back, breathing heavily. "You can't give his Grace back."

Gabriel ignored the misgendering, though at any other time - when it was Michael Corner he would have been defending - he would have snapped at Balthazar and corrected him. He didn't reply to the demand, which made Balthazar look at him sharply.

"Gabriel, you  _ can't  _ give it back."

"You can't stop me!"

"I wouldn't care if this was anything else, but this isn't just  _ your  _ funeral if this goes wrong, Gabriel, it's  _ all  _ of our funerals!" Balthazar shouted, his face going slightly red.

"Well, I can't just leave them as a human!"

Balthazar stared at him for a good few minutes before he spoke again. "Do you have  _ any idea-"  _ He cut himself off in an incredulous huff of laughter. "Hell, you were still back on that Earth when the whole Apocalypse nonsense went down! You were  _ there  _ for almost all of it! And you're suggesting we just, what, set Michael up in style again and hope he doesn't give it another go?"

"They."

"And you're still  _ defending  _ them!"

"Michael's still human right now," Gabriel growled. "So yeah, I am."

Balthazar seemed to realize he was still holding his drink and downed it all in one go. "And you're just going to ask them nicely to not end the world and hope Michael listens?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, you don't know! Well, that just solves everything, doesn't it?" Balthazar laughed in derision.

" _ Listen to me, Balthazar.  _ I don't know what the fuck's going to happen, but  _ something  _ happened that let Michael out of the cage, and they Fell. I don't know about you, but that's not exactly typical Michael behavior." Gabriel crossed his arms, glaring at his younger brother.

Balthazar didn't back down in the slightest. "Well, I wouldn't know, would I?" He replied, looking at his empty glass. "I mean it's not like I ever met any of you properly. Hell, even you and I didn't see much of each other until recently."

"Trust me," Gabriel retorted. "I know Michael, Balthazar...or at least I did."

"Well, that's brilliant, but I don't see-" Balthazar faltered under Gabriel's determined stare, and shook his head. "I can't convince you, can I?"

"Probably not."

Balthazar sighed. "I think the Winchesters rubbed off on you. This is  _ exactly  _ the type of thing they would attempt. And what are you going to if you can't talk Michael down or whatever?"

Gabriel's hand drifted closer to his angel blade, and Balthazar caught the movement. "I'll take care of it."

"You're not serious." Balthazar's expression had shifted back into incredulity.

"Balthazar-"

"The last time  _ you  _ went up against another archangel, you only survived because you faked your death!"

"Well at least this time I know they might be at least a little hesitant about killing me!"

They faced each other in silence for a few moments before Balthazar snorted and looked away.

"Fine. Have fun with your suicide mission. And, uh, if things don't go your way...warn me so I can go as far away as possible first."

Balthazar left without waiting for a reply, which was good, because Gabriel didn't have one.

Gabriel sighed, looking down at nothing in particular. "Might as well get this over with."

* * *

 

Michael jumped when ne realized Gabriel was behind nem. "Don't do that!"

"...Sorry." Gabriel eyed nem over. Nothing much seemed to have changed in the hours he’d been gone, except for nir relocation to Grimmauld Place. Gabriel would’ve thought ne’d go home. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“I don’t see how you couldn’t,” Michael muttered. Ne shifted in nir chair, jittery enough to actually show it. “Did you - er-”

“Figure it out?” Gabriel asked dryly.

"Yeah. I mean, I’m," Michael tapped nir head. “Hearing things? That’s not good."

"Yeah."

"So you know what's going on?"

"Yes."

"And you can fix it?"

"...Sort of."

Michael frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's..." Gabriel ran a hand over his face. "Difficult to explain. We're going to have to take a short trip."

"To where?"

"I honestly have no idea what it's called, I just know how to get there."

Michael inhaled slowly and then nodded. "Okay."

Gabriel tried not to think about how this was his sibling he was talking to, his  _ older  _ sibling, the one who he'd actually looked up to so many years ago, and put his hand on Michael's shoulder.

They were instantly transported to the valley where the tree was and both of the pair stumbled slightly as they landed, though for different reasons.

"Where is this?" Michael turned around and caught sight of the tree. "Holy crap."

"Yeah." Gabriel huffed. "I know."

"That is..." Michael was still staring up at it. "Is it even possible for trees to get that big?"

"Obviously, if this is here." Gabriel watched Michael, who was drawing slightly closer to the tree without noticing. With a start, the latter refocused on Gabriel.

"So, uh, why are we here?"

Gabriel nodded at the tree. "Because of that." Nervousness was mounting in him and Gabriel was starting to wonder whether Balthazar hadn't been right, whether he was making a huge mistake, whether or not he should take Michael away right now and avoid the possibility of needing his angel blade.

"The tree?" Michael looked up at it again. "Why?"

"...It's hard to explain." Gabriel walked under the large branches, drawing closer to the trunk, aware that Michael was following him. "I...there's not really a good way to say it."

"Then try." Michael sounded determined. "You've barely looked at me since you came back. What's wrong?"

_ You're my brother, and you're not my brother.  _ "Like I said, it's difficult-"

"Bullshit." Michael was much closer now. "I think, if there are weird voices in my head for ten hours, I deserve a bit of an explanation."

Gabriel sighed. "Just...touch the tree."

"What?"

"Touch the fucking tree, alright?" Gabriel immediately regretted his tone, because even without looking he could tell that Michael had taken offense. "Look, Michael-"

"Something's wrong." Michael was staring at Gabriel when he turned around. "I don't know what's got you so freaked out about this, but I can handle it, alright? Just tell me!"

Gabriel stared and then dropped his gaze. "Michael, please, just...it'll make sense in a minute. Trust me."

Michael didn't answer for a minute.

"Just touch the tree?" Ne said eventually, disbelief entering nir tone.

"Yeah."

"..Alright."

Gabriel watched as Michael approached the thick trunk, eyes scanning the tree. Ever so slowly, ne reached nir hand up and laid it on the thick bark.

There was a moment when nothing happened.

Then, the world exploded into a blinding white.

* * *

 

The hot, white light died down almost as quickly as it had come. Gabriel lowered the arm he'd thrown up defensively in front of his face, and actually had to blink spots out of his eyes - if he'd been human, he'd have been incinerated for sure.

Michael was still standing next to the tree, hand outstretched, and it almost looked like ne was gasping for breath. Gabriel didn't have time to reflect on this because in the next moment Michael was whipping around and nir eyes locked with Gabriel's.

"Gabriel." Gabriel told himself he was imagining the note of relief in his sibling's voice.

"Michael."

"I-" Michael stopped before ne could get any farther, seemingly connecting nir new and old memories. "You're not dead."

"Of course not." Gabriel scoffed.

"But we all felt it-"

"I think I can fake my death well enough that none of  _ you  _ notice."

Michael paused, but didn't look away. Nir body language still held hints of Michael Corner, and Gabriel tried to ignore it. "...Why?"

Gabriel didn't have to ask what Michael meant. "Ohhh no," he said, finger stabbing out to point at the elder angel. " _ I  _ am asking the questions right now. For example, mind explaining how you got out of the Cage?"

Michael straightened. "You know-"

"Yeah, I know. I heard about it, even all the way over here."

Michael opened nir mouth, closed it, and then sighed. "Our Parent-"

Gabriel started laughing before Michael could get any farther, because _really?_ That was the excuse ne was going to pull?

"I'm serious." Michael looked it, too, but then again ne always did.

"Suuure." Gabriel let the word linger in his mouth. "Pull the other one, Michael."

"I'm not lying to you, Gabriel." That made Gabriel pause, because he could tell now that he looked - Michael wasn't lying, not about that, but knowing that ne was telling the truth didn't make Gabriel any happier.

"And why would Daddy dearest get off His ass, wherever the hell He is, just to pull you out of Hell?"

"Don't-"

"If you say one word about disrespecting Dad I'm going to shove  _ your _ ass off this fucking planet."

Michael didn't say anything, but Gabriel could see nir frustration plain as day. "...That's not exactly how it went."

"Then what  _ did  _ happen?" Gabriel spun around, gesturing widely. "Enlighten me, Michael."

"They offered us a choice. Both of us." Michael continued before Gabriel had a chance to reply. "They said we could either stay in the Cage until the next time the seals broke, or we could become human."

"And you... _ chose... _ humanity." Gabriel was tempted to look around and see if he spotted any flying pigs.

"Yes."

"I don't believe you," Gabriel said immediately.

"I'm. Not.  _ Lying, _ Gabriel. Why would I?" Michael spread nir hands.

"Hm." Gabriel put a hand to his chin in mock thought. "Let me think. Just off the top of my head, or do I have time to think and make a longer list?"

" _ Gabriel."  _ Gabriel would be lying if he said his hand didn't jump to his angel blade, and he knew Michael must have noticed, but the latter didn't say anything (although Gabriel thought he saw nem wince momentarily, but it must have been a trick of the light).

"I'm sorry, you can't seriously expect me to buy that story." The problem was that Gabriel thought he did, but he'd always been good at pretending.

"I  _ expect  _ you to be able to tell that I'm not lying. About  _ any  _ of it." Michael's frustration had bled onto nir face by now, and ne took a step towards Gabriel.

"You're one of the only beings in this entire fucking universe that outranks me, I can't exactly  _ tell. _ " Gabriel tried to disguise the fact that he'd taken a step backwards at the same time. He was not nervous, damnit, it was just because they hadn't talked in a while. That was all.

"Yes, you can."

"You could be tricking me," Gabriel shot back.

"I'm not the Trickster god." Almost amused disbelief colored Michael's voice. "Loki, really?"

"You didn't find me, did you?"

Michael didn't have a response to that, and Gabriel drew a small surge of vindictive pleasure from the fact that he'd rendered nem speechless.

"So what happened to Lucifer?" He asked nonchalantly, fighting to keep his hands from straying to where he knew a scar still rested right over his heart. "You know, after you broke out."

"What do you think?" Michael said - and was that sadness in nir voice? "He stayed in the Cage."

Honestly, Gabriel hadn't really expected anything else, he'd just wanted to make sure there wasn't a human Lucifer running around somewhere. "So, what now? Jailbreak him and give it all another go?"

"No."

What. The. Ever. Loving. Fuck.

" _ What?"  _ Gabriel gave saying something else several tries and then settled for just outright staring at Michael in shock.

"No, that's not what I'm going to do." The last time Gabriel had seen Michael this resolute, they'd been standing in front of God getting orders. Ne didn't look the least bit unsure.

Gabriel managed to find his voice again. "You're  _ joking." _

"I'm not, I swear."

"...How long  _ were  _ you human?" The question was mostly rhetorical, but Gabriel was curious to see if Michael would answer, because the Michael  _ he  _ remembered - well, ne wasn't anywhere close to making a decision like  _ this. _

Michael actually smiled a little, but ne wasn't looking at Gabriel - instead, ne turned around to stare up at the tree which had so recently housed nir Grace. "A lot longer than just fifteen years."

"Reincarnation." Gabriel snorted. "That explains a lot."

Michael didn't immediately reply, but ne turned back around and nir eyes flicked to a spot behind Gabriel. Ne frowned, staring in what almost looked like worry. "What happened to your wings?"

Gabriel defensively tucked his second pair around where the third had been, but he couldn't hide the fact that he was still two short. "Nothing."

"Don't be stupid." Michael winced, actually  _ winced,  _ and Gabriel noticed that nir third set of wings were rather bedraggled and scraggly, feathers missing in bunches. "What did Metatron do?" Anger colored nir voice. "He was declaring himself  _ God." _

"I told you already. His little spell, locking everyone out of Heaven." Gabriel grinned sardonically. "The usual. Chaos abounding. From what I can tell, things kind of got even shittier upstairs after you got locked up."

"Even worse?" Michael sounded puzzled. "What else happened?"

"Oh, this and that, et cetera, mostly horrible stuff."

"Gabriel." Michael sounded so severe that for a moment ne was exactly as Gabriel remembered. "What happened?"

"Wow, order me to tell you, why don't you, that'll work for sure."

Michael sighed heavily, more likely out of frustration than anything else. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Yes."

" _ Will  _ you?" For a moment Michael sounded exactly like an exasperated older sibling, which Gabriel supposed that ne was.

_ " _ Maybe."

"Gabriel-"

_ "Don't _ try and guilt trip me into telling you, Michael, it's not going to work." The words came out sharper than Gabriel had intended, and he glanced back at Michael to try and gauge nir feelings, but ne was impassive as usual.

"I was going to ask why you're mad at me." Michael's voice had gotten quieter.

"I'm not-"

" _ I'm  _ not  _ stupid, _ Gabriel. And refusing to tell me is really just childish."

"You say that like I care," Gabriel muttered.

"You should."

"Thanks. Glad to know we're back to you telling me what to do."

"I'm just trying to figure out what I missed." Michael's voice was heated now, and ne'd come closer to Gabriel. " _ And  _ why you're being so stubborn."

"I am  _ not  _ your subordinate anymore," Gabriel snapped, "And not-"

"Yeah, you made that pretty clear when you left." Michael wasn't yelling, but the words stung.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, until Gabriel broke the silence.

"You know why I left."

"I know you had a  _ job-" _

"As what?" Gabriel demanded. "Dad's mouthpiece? The mediator when you got into an argument for the billionth time?" He gave a short, sharp laugh. "What, you - you expected me to just hang around while you were all at each other's throats? While you practically  _ tore _ each other  _ apart?" _

"It wasn't-" Michael futilely tried to protest.

"No, it  _ was  _ that bad!" And now it was Gabriel who was yelling, both sides staring the other down and wings spread wide in clear intimidation moves. "And you were in the center of it, Michael! I don't know if you turned a blind eye or you were just too busy being General to see what Zachariah was doing under your fucking nose - and don't even  _ talk  _ to me about Naomi - but things were  _ shit!" _

Michael stood impassively while Gabriel shouted, eyes flashing, but totally silent. Gabriel took the opportunity to keep talking.

"So yeah," he said, words drenched in venom. "I left. Because I didn't want to see Heaven turn into a royal  _ fuckup  _ of an army instead of a family - not that we ever were in the first place."

"Don't say that." Michael's voice almost broke, and Gabriel stopped in surprise for a moment.

"You know this as well as I do, Michael." Gabriel snapped, regaining his bad temper immediately. Thunder rumbled, but Gabriel was too infuriated to care what he might be unconsciously doing. "How many of the younger angels even  _ met  _ Dad? Oh, that's right -  _ I was the last one who ever did!  _ I'm fourth oldest, Michael and no one younger than me ever so much as heard from Him save for Joshua! You can't seriously say that that's reasonable!"

"I'm not saying you're wrong-"

"But I'm wrong?" Gabriel interrupted acidly.

"Gabriel-"

"Michael, come on." Gabriel watched Michael let out a breath, which gathered in a pale cloud in the suddenly-cooler air in a burst of mist. Ne didn't say anything more for several moments.

"Am I really the reason you left?" Ne finally asked.

Gabriel met Michael's blue gaze evenly. "I don't know what you expected to hear."

The tension had bled out of the air, but storm clouds still hovered overhead, casting a grey light over the scene. Gabriel had turned around again and was about to leave when Michael spoke again.

"I'm sorry."

_"...W_ _ hat?"  _ Pigs had definitely grown wings somewhere in the world, or else Gabriel was dreaming.

"I said I'm sorry."

Gabriel stared at his sibling for several moments. "...You sure you're Michael?"

"I know I don't usually apologize-"

_ "That's _ an understatement."

"I'm  _ trying  _ to-"

"I know what you're trying to do. I heard you." Gabriel studied his brother. Michael's wings were tight at nir sides, so that he could barely see anything wrong with them.

"And?" 

Gabriel refocused his attention at the question. "And what?" He scoffed. "You think 'I'm sorry' is going to make everything sunshine and rainbows?" Gabriel swept a hand around, gesturing to their surroundings. "No. I don't think so."

Michael straightened slightly, nir expression one of dawning realization, and maybe resignation. "You don't trust me."

"I'd be an idiot if I did."

Michael gave a dry laugh. "That's really what you think of me?"

"You haven't done a whole lot to convince me otherwise." Gabriel shrugged, as if to say  _ what can you do? _

"So the last few years-"

Was Michael really going to try that? "That was Michael Corner," Gabriel interrupted. "Not you."

"And I'm not nem?" Michael asked.

Gabriel focused hard and for just a moment he saw the vessel and not his sibling. "No," he finally replied. "You're not. You know that as well as I do."

Michael studied Gabriel back just as intensely. "You've changed," ne said eventually.

"Fourteen hundred years will do that to you."

Michael looked like ne was on the verge of letting out whatever comment ne was restraining nemself from making. "You may not trust me, Gabriel, but what about the other way around?"

"Can you trust me?" Gabriel made an  _ eh  _ face, shrugging. "I'd say yes, but you've got a habit of disagreeing with me."

"Being frustrated," said Michael, "And disagreeing are two different things."

"See, you're doing it now."

Michael huffed, glancing away and propping nir hands on nir hips. "Look," ne said, "I don't want to fight with you, Gabriel."

"I'm not looking for a fight," Gabriel retorted.

"Can we just-" Michael extended nir hand and then dropped it back to nir side. "Could we agree to at least try to get along?"

"You mean fake it?" Gabriel couldn't say he hadn't been expecting that.

"If only for the sake of anyone who might be nearby."

Well, when Michael put it like that...

"Fine." Gabriel said shortly. Michael extended nir hand and they shook on it, only for a few seconds before Gabriel let go and stepped back again.

"I guess I'll have to go back and explain what happened to the Order," Michael mused aloud, casting a final glance at the tree. “And my mother.” Jeez.” Ne rubbed the back of nir neck, looking extraordinarily like Michael Corner.

"Probably a good idea."

"You'll still show up at Hogwarts?"

"You're not that scary, Michael." Gabriel tried for his usual shit-eating grin. "I'm not going anywhere."

Michael grinned slightly, but much more subdued. "I'm going to assume I'm not welcome to come over."

Gabriel paused, stiffening slightly, but he didn't get a chance to respond.

"They're cute," Michael said, making Gabriel's eyebrows shoot up. "Your kids, I mean. I think I said that before but I might as well repeat it now."

Gabriel took a moment to find his voice again. "I would have thought you'd react worse than that."

"I think if our Parent had a problem with you being a dad too, he'd have done something about it by now." Michael laughed. "They're not Nephilim, after all. You always did have a way with loopholes."

"Nice to know your memories of me are so complimentary."

Michael sobered, grin fading. "I remember more than that."

"Don't get nostalgic on me, Michael, it doesn't suit you."  _ I don't want to go there right now. _

Michael seemed to understand Gabriel's unspoken meaning. "...I'll see you at Hogwarts, then."

"Sure." Gabriel hesitated, gave Michael a slight nod, and then left before either of them could change their minds.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehhh? Ehhhhhhhhhhhh???? What do you think?
> 
> Michael and Gabriel have a *lot* to work through, but they won't be getting around to it for a while...on that note, I will be putting up another story in this series explaining what happened to Michael. I might even do something about nir lives pre-Michael Corner, but idk about that because it's not already written and finished, unlike my other stuff.
> 
> But I digress! Comment, please, and let me know your reaction!


	51. The Order and The Elder Wand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God I had so much trouble writing this chapter.
> 
> I probably sat here staring at the computer blankly for about 10 minutes in between each sentence. I have no idea how many times I rewrote something but at least half of this chapter is not what I originally wrote.
> 
> And honestly, Michael wasn't planned from the start. When I first created the character of Michael Corner, ne was just the first Ravenclaw name I came up with that was canonically mentioned in the books. I started developing nir character a bit farther with the whole gender neutral identity, but in the end ne was just there because, since Gabriel was not a Gryffindor, I couldn't keep Ron in there reasonably since Gabriel had no reason to be friends with him. 
> 
> And yet, here we are.  
> (I'm surprised none of you asked about Adam. Did we forget, again?)

Gabriel couldn't have been more relieved when term finally ended, because it meant that he and Michael could stop awkwardly avoiding each other, which had been made even more difficult by the fact that they shared a House and therefore most of their classes. He didn’t know how the Order had reacted, if they’d even been told yet, or what Michael’s mother had thought of her child’s abrupt transformation. He was trying to convince himself he didn’t care. 

The magical community, on the other hand, seemed to be in an uproar. The attack on the Ministry had not gone unnoticed - quite the opposite, in fact. It had made the papers - Dumbledore had been right, the Dark Mark had been seen all over Britain for the first time in fifteen years, and Fudge had been voted out of office in disgrace.

It seemed to be all anyone had talked about for the last few weeks of term. Gabriel was once again the center of attention, since even those who hadn't originally believed that Voldemort was back were forced to see that he had been right this whole time.

Gabriel avoided most of those trying to talk to him now that he was popular again. The train station was the worst of it, and when a fifth hand landed on his shoulder he almost punched the person it belonged to. It was lucky he didn’t, because the hand was Cedric’s.

“Hey, Harry.” Cedric, the recent graduate, was grinning. “Just wanted to say ‘bye - I won’t be seeing any of you again, after all, unless I come by for a visit.”

“Yeah, too bad. Maybe you can come back and teach Defense.”

“I don’t think Dumbledore could get away with hiring me that early,” Cedric joked. “Anyway - have a good break, yeah?”

“Sure.” Getting away from close quarters with Michael would improve his life drastically. Gabriel waved halfheartedly as Cedric vanished back into the crowd.

* * *

 

Once the train had arrived back in London (after the most awkward train ride Gabriel had ever been forced to endure, despite the fact that he'd excused himself early on from sharing a cabin with his sibling) Gabriel had one more thing to do.

"Hey!" It was easy enough to find Draco on the platform - no one else had that particular shade of white-blond hair, except maybe Luna. He was standing near a woman who looked remarkably similar to him, standing stiffly and dressed in what looked like tailored robes.

Draco looked relieved to see him. "You said to meet you here," he said, as if making sure he'd done the right thing.

"Yeah - this your mom?"

The woman nodded. "Narcissa Malfoy," She introduced herself, holding out a hand. Gabriel took it. "Draco tells me you can...help."

When Gabriel paid closer attention, both of the Malfoys were looking at him oddly - they must have found out what had happened to Malfoy senior, if Narcissa hadn't already been informed about his identity as Loki.

"I can," he said, grinning. "I've been told you're looking for a way out? I'm sure Dumbledore would be thrilled to help." The headmaster really was amazingly convinced of people's capacity for second chances, Gabriel had discovered, and he'd agreed readily to the plan once Gabriel had explained it. Gabriel was impressed, considering he’d gotten around to explaining it only that morning.

"So what are you going to do?" Draco asked.

"First, this." Gabriel dug out a piece of parchment Dumbledore had given him. "Here, take a look at this."

Both Malfoys peered at the address written in curling script. "Grimmauld-"

"Not out loud." Gabriel put a finger in front of Draco's face, cutting him off abruptly. "You got that location in your mind?"

"Yes." Narcissa seemed to understand what it meant, and Draco to a lesser extent.

"Good." Gabriel put a hand to each of their foreheads and flew straight for Grimmauld Place, landing much more neatly than he had expected with his wings they way they were.

Narcissa looked around herself sharply, while Draco's hands shot out to help him keep his balance. "What in Merlin's name-"

"Ah, Mrs. Malfoy!"

All three of them looked over sharply at the voice. Dumbledore was sitting on a nearby chair, and Gabriel had somehow missed him, despite the fact that he was wearing blue robes that stood out starkly against the drab interior of Grimmauld place.

"Headmaster," Narcissa said, startled. "I didn't expect you to be here."

"I wished to greet you," Dumbledore said, standing smoothly for someone of his age. "And Draco, as well, since for the immediate future this will be your shelter. That is, if you still wish to stay away from Lord Voldemort?"

Both Malfoys gave miniscule flinches upon hearing Voldemort's name, but no other reaction was apparent. 

"Yes," Narcissa said, closing her eyes as if composing herself. "The Dark Lord...with Lucius in prison and all else that has happened-"

"There is no need to explain yourself," Dumbledore said kindly. "I am perfectly willing to give shelter to those who seek it - if, indeed, you are here under the circumstances that you say you are."

"They're not lying," Gabriel informed him, having already checked for any ulterior motives behind Narcissa's actions.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said cheerfully, while Narcissa shot Gabriel a startled look. "Well then, Mrs. Malfoy, if you will come with me, we can talk things over further...oh, and before I forget, someone wanted to speak to you, Gabriel."

Gabriel raised his eyebrows, not questioning the use of his real name in present company. "Who?"

"Michael." Gabriel stiffened. "He seemed rather insistent." Dumbledore said, observing Gabriel's reaction thoughtfully. "I thought you had solved their problem?"

"What do you mean?" Draco was looking at Gabriel askance. "What's wrong with Michael?"

"Nothing, Draco." Gabriel's lips twisted into a scowl for half a moment. "Fine. I assume they're downstairs?"

"Yes, and we're actually about to have a meeting - if you would go into the kitchen, I will take only a moment to follow."

Gabriel nodded, moving past Dumbledore and out onto the landing. Already he could hear the murmur of indistinct voices from the kitchen, since the room he'd landed in was only on the second floor.

The talk stopped abruptly as Gabriel yanked the door open, and Charlie, who was sitting closest to it, jumped nearly out of his seat. Michael looked up sharply - ne was standing farther down the table, slightly separate from everyone else.

"Oh, good, you're here," Mrs. Weasley said. Gabriel saw that Sirius was pointedly glaring at his plate - the man obviously still hadn't forgiven Gabriel for unwillingly possessing his godson. "Michael just got back as well - weren't you on the train together?"

"Yes." Gabriel said shortly, wondering why this conversation had been postponed until after term ended if everyone was so eager to find out what had happened.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Lupin questioned.

"Upstairs with the Malfoys."

"The  _ Malfoys?"  _ Several people reacted poorly to Gabriel's answer.

"What are they doing here?" Bill asked incredulously.

"Oh, I don't know, trying to stay out of Voldemort's reach like the rest of us?" Gabriel asked sarcastically, noticing that while a fair few of the members flinched at the name, not all of them did.

"But the Malfoys-" Someone else protested.

"You mean Lucius Malfoy, right?" Gabriel asked with a cocked eyebrow. "As in, the  _ only _ member of the family who has a Dark Mark and is a confirmed death eater?"

Silence. Several people glanced at each other warily. Dumbledore chose that opportune moment to sweep into the room.

"Oh, there was no need to wait for me," He said, taking the empty seat at the head of the table. "I assure you, missing some of the explanation would not have been the end of the world. Michael, would you like to sit down?"

Michael nodded, nir eyes moving away from Gabriel. "I didn't see a free chair."

"Ah! Well, I can conjure one if you like-" Dumbledore raised his wand, and Gabriel narrowed his eyes at it - it did feel a bit like death, or at least similar to how the cloak's magic had felt, but his thoughts were distracted when Michael spoke again.

"No, it's - it'll probably be easier to explain if I do it."

Someone sitting across the table from him, next to Gabriel, frowned. "If  _ you  _ do it?"

Michael snapped nir fingers.

A chair was suddenly squashed in between the two people sitting closest to where Michael stood.

Silence again permeated the room as everyone stared at the chair that Michael was now sitting in and tried to process what had just happened.

Dumbledore, astonished (even though he was remarkably good at hiding it behind his beard) turned slightly to look at Gabriel, an unspoken question in his glance.

Gabriel sighed. "There are...certain circumstances, once in a blue moon, that can happen to an angel, where they can...Fall. And, ah, become human."

There was a lot of wide-eyed, shocked looks directed at Michael when the Order caught on to Gabriel's meaning.

"You're not serious," A witch with flyaway hair said eventually.

"No, he is." Gabriel jerked his thumb at Sirius, who looked surprised at being called out and then tried furiously to maintain a stony scowl instead of laughing.

There was a brief spattering of laughter, but it was mostly from the younger members, who quickly stopped once they noticed the older members staring at them meaningfully.

"But-" Bill shook his head, earring rattling. "If  _ Michael's  _ an angel too - how did you not notice?"

"Maybe because Michael was human?" Gabriel gave the eldest Weasley a slightly condescending look. "I'm not omniscient, no matter how much it looks like that to you."

"But how is it that he-"

"I'd prefer if you didn't call me that," Michael interrupted. "And I  _ can  _ answer on my own, you know."

"Call you what, he?" Lupin said after a pause.

"Yes."

"But-" The wizard who had spoken up trailed off under Michael's stare. "Isn't, um, aren't you...a guy?"

Michael gave him an  _ are you serious  _ look, mouth twisting. "Angels," ne said, "Aren't the same as humans. Michael is only a male name because your ancestors decided to make it so - and angels are genderless creatures as a whole. So, no."

"But you're fine with being called 'he'." The question was directed at Gabriel by McGonagall, who had stayed in an astonished silence throughout the conversation.

Gabriel shrugged. "I don't mind it. I don't technically have a gender either, but I've always preferred male vessels."

"Wait, wait." Tonks spoke up, waving her hands in an X shape. "If Michael was human before, how's - er, how are you an angel now?"

"I recovered my Grace," Michael said simply. "That's all there was to it."

"Grace?" Dumbledore asked.

"Our power source," Gabriel clarified. "The equivalent of a human's soul."

That called for more startled looks. "But - you just went and found it?" Lupin questioned disbelievingly.

Gabriel scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Of course not. Where did you think I went for ten hours after the mess at the Ministry? I had to comb over the whole planet before I found it." He'd found it fairly quickly, all things considered, but checking for Lucifer's as well had taken at least twice as long.

The reference to the scale of his search went mostly un-commented on, but Gabriel noticed a few people exchange looks of slight incredulity.

"But how'd you know Michael was your brother in the first place?" The question came from the same witch who had piped up earlier. "Because of what happened at the ministry?"

"Yep," Gabriel nodded. "What Michael was hearing then, it's an angel thing. Telepathic stuff between all of us."

Dumbledore's eyebrows had crept up his forehead. "And Michael was somehow able to hear it?"

"It got triggered." Gabriel shrugged again. "If there's a big enough message, sent across powerfully enough...this can happen. It's happened before."

Michael frowned. "It has? With who?"

"Anna," Gabriel said flatly, without looking his sibling in the eye or looking at nem at all. Michael made a startled little noise, and said nothing.

Gabriel was still looking at Dumbledore, or rather, his wand - after all, Death may have been a Horseman but he still got impatient. "That all you wanted?" He asked dryly. "Or is this going to turn into an interrogation?"

"Wait-" Michael had reached across the table, but then seemed to think better of it and retracted nir hand. "I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?" Gabriel ran his finger over the table, drawing invisible designs and concentrating on them as if they were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.

"Just-" Michael glanced at the rest of the Order, who were watching intently. "Maybe we should go somewhere else."

"Just maybe," Gabriel suggested sarcastically.

Michael's mouth twisted again, and ne huffed out a breath. A moment later, ne and Gabriel were sitting in the same parlor that the Malfoys had vacated earlier.

"Geez, how about a warning next time?" Gabriel dropped ungracefully into the nearest chair. "What."

"You  _ know  _ what." Michael was frowning fiercely now, but it didn't seem to be directed at Gabriel. "What happened in Heaven?"

Gabriel groaned, slumping back into the cushion. "Not this-"

" _ Yes,  _ this again!" Michael snapped, and Gabriel most certainly  _ did not  _ jump. Michael froze in place, and then straightened, forcing the tension out of nir shoulders.

"Gabriel," Michael continued, in a sort of forced calm voice, "I  _ know  _ how many siblings we have. There are not  _ nearly  _ enough of them talking right now. What happened to the rest of them?"

Gabriel sat up slowly.

Michael was not going to be happy.

"And another thing," Michael added suddenly before Gabriel had a chance to reply, and the latter closed his mouth with an indiscernible eyeroll. "What happened to Raphael? He won't reply."

"A lot of stuff happened after you and Lucifer got trapped," Gabriel said eventually, looking to the side. "Heaven...I don't know for sure, but...Castiel and Raphael had a pretty explosive disagreement."

Michael huffed out a breath. "Raphael was trying to follow what I tried to do," ne guessed

"Yeah. Didn't go well."

"So Raphael?"

Gabriel didn't answer immediately.

"Gabriel." Michael repeated, once the silence had started to drag on. Worry had crept into nir tone.

"Castiel is still around," Gabriel told the fire that was burning low in the grate. "What do you think happened to Raphael?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Gabriel, tell me he's not dead."

Gabriel propped his head on his linked hands and didn't answer.

He heard Michael take a breath behind him and neither spoke for a while, until Michael cleared nir throat several minutes later. "That's what happened to the rest of them?" Nir tone made it clear ne had already guessed the answer. "I come back and half of us are dead?"

"I couldn't do anything," Gabriel snapped, hackles rising at the perceived blame. "I was  _ trapped  _ here, on this  _ fucking  _ Earth-"

"I wasn't blaming you!" Michael's voice was sharp with anger. "Would you  _ please  _ stop taking everything I say personally just because you don't believe I've changed!"

"You know what, Michael,  _ I don't care!"  _ Gabriel had spun around and looked at his sibling properly for the first time since they'd spoken under Michael's tree before he even realized it. "I don't care if you've changed, because that doesn't do shit about what already happened!"

"You don't think I know that?" Michael was on nir feet too, face tight and mouth drawn into a fierce line. "You don't think I remember every bit of being an archangel because I do, Gabriel, all of my Grace was in that tree and I can guarantee you that whatever you're thinking of, I probably am too!"

"Really?" Gabriel challenged. "Because, what, you were human and now you feel bad?"

"Yes!" Michael raked a hand through nir hair. "It - I was  _ human,  _ Gabriel, I was  _ human  _ and then I was an  _ archangel _ and-" Ne struggled to find the right words, throwing nir arms out. "I was suddenly Michael again,  _ the  _ Michael, but a part of me didn't believe that that could possibly be true." Ne took a deep breath. "So I fucked up. And it took being human to make me realize that."

"Don't apologize again."

"Because you don't want to hear it?" Michael's voice had grown heated again. "You know, Gabriel-"

"Just shut up for half a second, alright?" Gabriel interrupted. "I get it. You're sorry. You don't have to keep saying it."

"I only repeated it because I didn't think you believed me."

"I do-"

"Do you?" Michael asked. "You proved that  _ very  _ well by  _ avoiding  _ me for two weeks."

"I wasn't-"

"Oh, really?"

"Fine." Gabriel raised his hand and dropped it in the same gesture. "I was avoiding you. So what? We haven't properly seen each other in eight centuries and before you say anything, you  _ know  _ that Michael Corner doesn't count."

Michael had crossed nir arms, and was staring at Gabriel pointedly. "Yeah, and not talking for even longer is going to help."

"We're talking now, aren't we?"

"You  _ know _ what I mean." Michael made a frustrated noise in the back of nir throat and sat back down. "What about...afterwards?"

Gabriel frowned, taken off guard by the abrupt subject change. "After Raphael-"

"Yes." Michael didn't seem to want to hear the word.

"Lots of things." Gabriel flopped back into his chair as well. "The usual. Leviathan roaming the Earth."

Michael jerked upwards, staring at Gabriel. " _ What?!" _

"They're not around anymore, stop panicking."

"Leviathan?" Michael sounded torn between incredulity and anger. "How the hell did they get out of Purgatory?"

"Do I look like I know?"

"What did you do?"

"What did  _ I  _ do? I stayed the fuck out of the way, what do you think?" Gabriel replied, barely restraining himself from adding  _ duh _ . "One archangel against a horde of Leviathan, no question as to who's going to win  _ that  _ fight!"

"If you didn't do anything, who got rid of them?" Michael sounded confused.

"Best guess? The Winchesters."

There was a pause, before Michael spoke up again. "The Winchesters?"

"They seem like they can do a lot of things when they put their mind to it." Gabriel stretched out his feet. "They stopped the Apocalypse, after all."

"...Right." Michael slumped back slightly at the mention of nir plan-gone-wrong. "What about-"

"Look, can't you just listen in on angel radio or something?" Gabriel could sense that Dumbledore was about to leave and he didn't want to miss the chance to get another one of Death's little wizard toys.

"Have you got something urgent to do?"

"Of a sort." Gabriel stood up fluidly, vanishing from the room and catching Dumbledore just outside the house in the same moment. Dumbledore turned around sharply at the sound of Gabriel's raggedly beating wings, relaxing when he saw who it was.

"Is there something you wanted to say?" He asked.

Gabriel held out a hand. "Let me see your wand."

"I'm sorry?" Dumbledore had obviously not been expecting that response.

"I just want to see it." Gabriel made grabbing motions. "Come on, I'm not going to steal it. Well, I might have to borrow it. Depends on whether I'm right."

"Right about what?" Dumbledore was watching him with a guarded expression, which made Gabriel come to a sudden realization.

"Oh, you know what it is, don't you?" He laughed. "And here I was underestimating wizards. Come on, I promise I'm not going to do anything to it."

Dumbledore's expression had changed to one of significant surprise. "You know about the wand?"

"Please. It's leaking Death's magic all over the place." Gabriel's hand was still extended. "Are you going to let me take a look at it or not?"

With what looked like great reluctance, Dumbledore withdrew his wand. Gabriel snatched it from him before the elderly headmaster had the opportunity to change his mind and turned it over in his fingers, whistling.

"Well. It really is his. Didn't expect to find it with you." Gabriel looked at Dumbledore with one eyebrow cocked and a smirk on his lips. "I suppose there  _ is _ a reason you're known as the greatest wizard."

"I'd like to think at least some of it is purely my own talent," Dumbledore said, appearing unperturbed. "Is there a reason you have been looking for the deathly hallows?"

" _ Well..."  _ Gabriel tossed the wand up and caught it again neatly. "Long story short, Death did me a favor a few years ago, and I sort of promised I'd track these down for him and give them back. No idea why he can't do it himself, but a promise is a promise."

"You've spoken to Death?" Dumbledore sounded startled.

"Once or twice, not very recently." Gabriel glanced up at the headmaster. "Turns out I will have to borrow this after all - Death gets tetchy when you take too long with things and, well, he's not exactly someone to be indebted to."

" _ Borrow _ my wand?"

"Well, it's not exactly yours, is it?"

Dumbledore paused. "I suppose," he said eventually, "That I cannot convince you that it would be better to wait until I no longer had need of it to give it back?"

Gabriel's smirk grew. "Nope."

Dumbledore paused, seemingly considering the wisdom of arguing with one near-immortal being over the possession of a second, and gave it up as a bad job. "Would you be adverse to my borrowing it back temporarily so I could get back to Hogwarts?"

Gabriel was about to just fly Dumbledore there himself and save the trouble of handing it back and forth when his wings gave a particularly loud protest at being used so much in the past few days. Gabriel wasn't sure if he managed to hide his wince completely, because Dumbledore's gaze suddenly sharpened behind his glasses.

To distract the headmaster, Gabriel tossed the wand back at him, and Dumbledore hurried to catch it. "All yours. Mind taking me along with you so you can give it back?"

Dumbledore didn't protest or say anything along the lines of Gabriel having his own method of transportation. "Apparition can be mildly unpleasant," was all he said, the warning lighthearted.

"I think I'll live."

"I'll need to be holding onto you in some way, then."

Gabriel took the arm the headmaster offered and once more experienced the contorting sensation - which was even worse than he remembered - of the wizard's teleportation, which felt something like being squeezed through a rubber straw.

They popped out right in front of the Hogwarts gates, and Gabriel felt his vessel almost sag now that the constriction was gone.

Dumbledore handed back the wand without a protest. "It is lucky that I kept my old one," He said cheerfully, "Though it will take some time to get used to using it again. May I ask how you intend to give this one back?"

Gabriel made a noncommittal gesture. "Death'll know I have it by now. He'll show up eventually and ask for it back."

"And as for the other two?"

"Well, I already had the cloak - that was you who gave it to me when you still thought I was Harry, wasn't it?" Gabriel asked.

"Indeed." Dumbledore's features darkened slightly at the mention of Gabriel's vessel. "I had thought Harry would appreciate having it."

"Nice gesture. In any case, useful for me. As for the stone, I'll find it eventually. Shouldn't be too hard." Gabriel gave Dumbledore an informal, two-fingered salute. "Have a good summer."

"And you as well."

Gabriel braced himself and, ignoring the protest from his wings, took off.

* * *

 

"Jesus  _ fuck!" _

Gabriel staggered to a halt in the middle of London, hurriedly jumping out of the way of a taxi which had careened too close to the curb for comfort and stepping out of the way of the pedestrians into a small cafe area.

Wincing, Gabriel put a hand to his back. He'd have to stop flying if this was going to happen every time - his wings were getting worse, not better, and Metatron hadn't helped in the slightest. The fact that his spell was still active was probably the reason for their delayed healing in the first place. He'd thought it would be alright earlier, but any bit of his injuries that  _ had  _ healed in the slightest had stopped doing so by now.

Swearing under his breath, Gabriel looked around. He wasn't anywhere that he recognized, but he'd probably be able to find his way home easily enough - there were plenty of booths scattered around the city that would give a map to anyone who looked enough like a lost tourist.

A tap on his shoulder made Gabriel spin around, startling the waitress who had done so.

"'Scuse me," she said, "But the man at table three says 'e's been waiting."

Oh, of course.

Gabriel let the waitress direct him and slid into the booth seat. There was already food on the table. "You're fast."

"You're not," Death observed, looking up from his plate. "One year, Gabriel. Did it really take you that long to find the wand?"

"I don't pay that much attention to Dumbledore." Gabriel drew the wand from the pocket where he'd put it only seconds earlier and put it on the table. "What's so important about the deathly hallows, anyway? I never read the story."

Death gave him a condescending look and picked up the wand, twirling it once and letting it slide into his sleeve as if it were returning to a sheath. "If you can't bother to take time to do so, then I don't feel the need to take time to tell you."

"Fair enough." Gabriel glanced around at the small fast-food restaurant. "You know, if I told anyone in the wizarding world that Death likes fast food, they'd probably think I was crazy."

"Even Michael?"

Gabriel paused for the briefest second before he realized. "Of course. You felt them get their Grace back, didn't you."

"Everyone did." Death said in a way that assured anyone he might have been talking to that it was an absolute fact. "The Grace of the first of all angels to be created by your Father is not exactly discreet."

"I know. Probably could have predicted that." Gabriel propped his elbows on the table. "And if Castiel felt that, then the Winchesters are already going to be on it."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. Dean Winchester in particular is very stubborn...lovely fellow though he is." Death gave Gabriel a pointed look. "Even if he doesn't remember most of our conversations."

Gabriel held up his hands. "I did apologize for the Mystery Spot."

"Indeed you did." Death returned to his food. "So what do you plan to do about Heaven?"

"What can I do? I don't know the spell Metatron used."

"Don't you? He is your brother." Death peered at Gabriel.

"Even if I could help open Heaven again, what could I do?" Gabriel shrugged. "Try and manage  _ that _ chaos? No thanks."

"You're God's messenger. I'm sure it would be easy to restore order."

Gabriel barked out a short laugh. "Order's never really been my forte."

"No," Death mused, "I don't suppose it has. I would have thought Michael would be all too willing to do so."

Gabriel hesitated. "You know...I might have agreed with you."

"But?"

"I don't know. Michael's different."

"So are you, since you last saw each other."

"Is there a point to this discussion?" Gabriel asked before Death could go any farther.

"Possibly." Death took a long sip of whatever was in his cup. "Maybe I think it would be to the advantage of everyone to not have two archangels who are constantly at each other's throats. We've done that already, what with your Big Plan, it would be a pity if the Earth were destroyed anyway despite all the Winchester's hard work."

Gabriel's mouth twisted as he considered Death's words. "I don't think it's that bad."

"Even so, there's still the risk." Death looked at Gabriel with a thoughtful expression, and Gabriel had the impression that the Horseman was looking at much more than his vessel. "Tell me, have you heard from your Father lately?"

"Are you joking?" Gabriel asked incredulously after a moment's pause while he processed that yes, Death was being completely serious. "No one's so much as  _ seen  _ Him practically since Lucifer fell. And you're asking if He's talked to me?"

"He came to get Michael out of Hell. I wondered if He'd taken the time to speak to you as well."

Gabriel's initial response stuck in his throat. "No," he said eventually. "I haven't heard from Him."

"Hm." Death leaned back with an inscrutable expression.

"What, did He tell you something?"

"Oh, He never tells me anything nowadays." Death looked faintly irritated. "Not that He ever did in the first place. I must say, it gets a bit annoying sometimes."

"So you don't know if He's planning anything."

"Does anyone but Him ever know?" Death looked back down with a gimlet stare. "Even you didn't know about his plans for humanity until they were nearly completed."

"I knew some of it."

"Details." Death waved a hand as if batting Gabriel's reply out of the air. "Always getting in the way. But I must say, Gabriel, if things go on the way they are with Heaven you won't have all that power at your disposal much longer."

"I know." With Heaven closed, every angel's reserves would be dwindling - if they waited long enough, most would be completely powerless as well as wingless. Heaven was the main power station, and even individual batteries couldn't last long without a charge.

"As long as you do." Death placed his fork back on the table - Gabriel hadn't noticed, somehow, but half of his burger had disappeared while they were talking. "That's all, Gabriel. I hope the stone won't take quite as long to make its way back into my possession."

Gabriel gave Death a slightly wavering grin. "'Course not. I know which one I'm looking for now."

Death gave Gabriel a look that told Gabriel that the former knew he was at least partially bullshitting his reply, but didn't say anything. With a nod in the horseman's direction, Gabriel stood up again and made his way out of the restaurant.

He'd had far too many distractions on the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well? What do you think? Good, bad?


	52. Third Winchesters and Family Trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update, yay! I figured I'd do this today because I'm flying out to visit my dad's family tomorrow and I'm not sure I'll have time for an update.
> 
> I should probably backtrack and explain the timeline here a little, just to make sure we're all on the same page before you go on and read the chapter.
> 
> At this point we've gone past 'Do You Believe In Miracles' aka the season 9 finale in the SPNverse. Therefore, Metatron's been taken care of. But there's something I've noticed in some s10 episodes - one, Cas and Hannah are still driving everywhere. Two, they still use Metatron's circle spell thingy to get back into Heaven.
> 
> Which means a) they took care of Metatron but haven't reversed his spell and b) still no wings.
> 
> So if you're thinking that everything's going to be all well and good now because Metatron is in jail...yeah. no.
> 
> And as a personal aside before we get into the actual story, I've always wondered how alternate universes and the media existing in the primary universe concerning those alternate universes would be addressed, since in most fics it never comes up.
> 
> MAJOR SEASON 10 SPOILERS LATER IN THE CHAPTER! Probably do not read if you haven't gotten to at least the first few episodes.

One thing Gabriel did not expect when he opened the door of his own house was to be greeted by a blond-haired boy who looked to be trying his best to leave.

"Whoa!" Gabriel stopped on the threshold and watched in bemusement as the boy reeled backwards, taking several hasty, stumbling steps away and brandishing what looked like one of Fenris's toy wooden swords. Gabriel stared in slight incredulity - since he'd immediately recognized the boy, and really he should have expected something like this to happen.

"Who the hell are you?" Adam Milligan demanded.

"You know," Gabriel replied, "Given that it's my house, I feel like I should be asking you that."

"You're the one who brought me here!"

"I didn't bring you anywhere." Gabriel frowned. "You don't know how you got here?"

"No!" Adam brandished the toy sword again. "I'm sick of it, okay? Freaking angels yanking me around and - and doing whatever the hell they did to me - I've had enough!"

"Adam, you're panicking-"

"How d'you know my name?" Adam demanded, stiffening and bringing up the toy again to point at Gabriel.

"I've heard of you-"

"You're another fucking angel, aren't you?" He was remarkably sharp, Gabriel would give him that.

"Look, I know my brothers aren't the greatest-"

" _ Aren't the greatest?"  _ Adam repeated in a much higher pitch. "Do you even-"

"Yes, I know exactly what happened, but panicking is not going to do anything about it." Gabriel kept his voice calm, however much he'd like to snap at the kid and just tell him to calm down. "Deep breaths, kid, I didn't do anything to you."

Strangely enough, Adam took Gabriel's advice, gulping in a breath that probably wasn't as large as it should have been, but Gabriel never professed himself an expert on humans.

"Where am I?" He demanded again.

"You're in my house." Gabriel continued before Adam could retort. "Just outside London, I'm gonna assume you know where that is. I don't know how you got here and I definitely didn't bring you here myself."

"How'd I get here, then?" Adam obviously didn't believe Gabriel.

"I don't know."

"Guess, then!"

"Rude," Gabriel commented. "But it might be related to the fact that a lot of people seem to be popping out of the Cage."

"The what?"

Gabriel frowned. "The Cage," he repeated. "You know, where you were stuck with Michael and Lucy after all of you got screwed over in Stull?"

"I remember Stull," Adam said warily, toy sword still extended. "I don't know anything about a Cage."

Gabriel stared at the kid in front of him. He certainly didn't look like he'd been stuck in Hell for four years, or however long it would have been for them down there, but that was impossible.

"Could you stop staring at me like that?" Adam had begun leaning away slightly. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Gabriel."

"The  _ archangel?" _

Gabriel flashed Adam a grin. "Guilty."

"Let me out."

"Whoa, hold on, kid. Where are you gonna go?" Gabriel put his arms out so that he was blocking the door.

"Let me out!"

"I'm not trying to trap you, kid, but this London happens to be on an alternate planet. Even if you could somehow get back to America, there's no Winchesters here to help you out."

Adam stared at Gabriel in disbelief. "You're lying."

It was the same knee-jerk reaction Gabriel had had to Michael's explanation, but he ignored the parallel for now. "Why would I be?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Come on, Adam, my brothers may have been dicks but I've never done anything to you."

Adam's hands stayed tight on the hilt of the toy, eyes darting back and forth as though he were thinking hard.

"Let me out."

"So you can do what? No money, nowhere to go...what exactly do you plan on doing?" Gabriel's eyebrow was still raised.

Adam seemed like he was about to respond when his eyes flicked to Gabriel's forehead.

"What the  _ hell  _ is that?"

* * *

 

"So," Gabriel began conversationally an hour later. He and Adam were sitting at the kitchen table, the latter having finally calmed down and let Gabriel explain things further. "You good on the whole being in an alternate universe thing, or do I need to explain that again?"

Adam made an unintelligible noise. He was facedown on the table, having slumped over during Gabriel's explanation of what, exactly, this version of Earth contained.

Fenris poked him, since he was sitting next to Adam. _ "Are we in those books?" _ He asked.

_ "Of course not. I'm not," _ Gabriel pointed out.

"So?" Fenris stuck his tongue out at his father.

"Your vessel," Adam said, raising his head slightly and leaning away from Fenris's hand, "Is really Harry Potter."

"Yep." Gabriel was overly cheerful on purpose. "And I believe that means you're also familiar with Hogwarts."

"I don't believe this." Adam gestured vaguely. "Harry Potter is a freaking angel."

"Not really, he's actually dead, I'm just borrowing his body."

"Stop ruining my childhood." Adam's head thunked back onto the table.

"Your childhood? Adam, I'm touched."

"You shut the-"

"No swearing," Gabriel said severely, "In case you've forgotten, Fenris is sitting right next to you."

Adam looked over at Fenris, leaving his head on the table. "He's seriously yours?"

"Why are you so surprised?" Gabriel leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs.

"Isn't it illegal or something?"

"Technically yes, but do I look like one to follow the rules to you?"

_ "I like him," _ Fenris declared randomly, hoisting himself up to sit on the table.

_ "Oh, really?" _

_ "He reminds me of you." _

Gabriel looked at Fenris in surprise at the same moment Adam spoke up irritably. "Do you mind speaking a language I can actually understand?"

"I would, but Fenris is still learning." The door creaked open and Jormungand poked his head in.

_ "Dad, have you seen - oh, there you are." _ Jormungand must have been looking for Fenris.  _ "Hey, Fen, you said you wanted to do something?" _

_ "I wanted to play with swords but I'm not bored anymore." _ Fenris swung his legs back and forth.  _ "This is Adam." _

"...Hi." Jormungand cautiously greeted Adam, looking at him curiously.

"Hey." Adam waved without appearing to expend any real energy on it.

_ "Who's he?" _

_ "I just said," _ Fenris replied, sounding injured.

_ "No, I mean, what?" _

"He's human," Gabriel answered.  _ "Might be staying with us, if he wants to. Depends." _

_ "He should!" _ Fenris excitedly leaped off the table, landing with only a stumble on the floor and ignoring the movement Gabriel had made towards him to catch him if necessary.  _ "Do you know how to play swords?" _

Adam blinked at being addressed. "Um...what?"

"He wants to know if you want to play." Jormungand, who had become quietly proficient in English once he understood the basics, translated in a soft accent. "You took his sword earlier."

Adam startled in alarm as Fenris snatched the wooden sword off the table and ran out of the room with it held over his head, shouting for Slepnir. The blond boy stared after him. "Uh, what would that involve?"

Jormungand wrinkled his nose, searching for the right words. "Playing?"

"He just means a play fight." Gabriel clarified. "They're just wood, they can't actually hurt you."

"I figured," Adam muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I mean, am I just going to end up staying here?"

"If you want." Gabriel grinned at Adam. "Probably the safest place on this planet, if you're looking to stay away from any other angels."

"Yeah, but there's you."

"What's so bad about me? I thought you liked Harry Potter."

"God..." Adam buried his face in his hands. "Don't, okay?" He was silent for a minute. "Can I make up my mind later?"

"Sure. Meanwhile, I think Fenris is waiting for you."

* * *

 

Adam did decide to stay, in the end, which turned out to be a popular decision. Not only did Fenris like him for whatever reason, but Vali and Narvi were happy to finally have someone closer to their physical age around.   


Adam was originally wary around Gabriel - which the latter didn't blame him for at all, knowing what had happened to the kid previously at the hands of his brothers - but as time went on he relaxed a bit, since Gabriel didn't have and showed no inclination to possess him or anything like that.

Michael, though, had been insistently trying to get ahold of Gabriel all summer. Gabriel was just as insistently ignoring the mental prods. He’d disconnected as thoroughly as possible, eventually, sick of being bothered by the one sibling he  _ really  _ didn’t want to talk to.

Before he’d done that, though, angel radio had been pretty quiet. Ever since Metatron's message, most of the talking was being done in person, or so Gabriel guessed. That, or else there was something else going on that made his siblings wary of speaking over the wavelength.

But there was one definite thing he had gathered - Metatron had been taken care of.

Gabriel considered going back to that Earth to figure things out, but he never had the time anymore, and he spent enough time away from home as it was. He could tell that no one had managed to reverse Metatron's spell yet - his wings were still gone - and yet he was reluctant to leave, but as it turned out the decision was taken out of his hands in the end.

Being summoned had never been very high up on Gabriel's to-do list, but even so people seemed to insist on doing it anyway.

"And what," he said, turning around as he spoke, "Can I do for - oh, Hell, not you!"

Gabriel was spending far too much time with Winchesters recently.

"... _ Gabriel?"  _ If there was a picture next to the word incredulity in the dictionary, it would be Sam Winchester's face right now.

"Were you expecting someone else?" Gabriel gave his surroundings a cursory glance, stepping forwards.

"But-" Sam shook his head. "Cas didn't say you had a new vessel."

"So he did manage to figure out that was me?" Gabriel grinned. "Took you long enough. That was, what, six months ago?"

"How'd you end up as a kid?" Sam asked, tucking away the matchbox he was holding.

"Why'd you summon me?" Gabriel shot back. "I think I'm entitled to a few answers here, Sammy boy."

Sam winced slightly. Gabriel eyed his arm, which was in a black sling. That didn’t look good. Why hadn’t Castiel done something about that? Healing Winchesters was his usual gig, unless something had changed recently.

"I need your help,” Sam said.

"Really." Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "And you didn't six months ago? I left a voicemail and all." If he'd left it while digging around in Castiel's mind, then those were just details - he'd left it all the same.

"We weren't sure if it was really you," Sam said, the words coming out in a rush when he exhaled at the same time. "Or if it was another trick, and we were...distracted."

"You say we, but I'm just seeing you." Gabriel took another look around at the abandoned clearing. "Nope, still just you."

"Stuff happened." Sam looked horrible once Gabriel looked closely, tired as all hell, but determined all the same. "It's Dean."

"Of course it is." Gabriel rolled his eyes, spinning to face Sam fully. "What about him?"

"I need your help to get him back."

Oh, brother. "Back from  _ where,  _ Sam? You're going to need to be more specific."

"We-" Sam inhaled slowly, pain flashing across his features. "We went up against Metatron, and...he killed Dean."

"Great." Gabriel stilled, gaze sharpening as he met Sam's desperate stare. "I'm not a crossroads demon, Sam. You can't sell me your soul for your brother's life."

"No, that's not-" Sam cut himself off. "I didn't summon you for that. Someone else brought him back."

"What a surprise."

"I need your help finding him."

" _ Finding  _ him?" That was a surprise. Gabriel frowned. "You don't know where he is?"

Sam held out a folded piece of paper. Gabriel took it, unfolding the legal pad paper to read the message written on it in scribbled letters.

_ SAMMY LET ME GO _

"Mind explaining a little further, Sam? I feel like I'm not getting the whole story."

"It was Crowley." Sam practically growled the name. "I don't know what he did, but he's behind this, definitely."

"Crowley? The demon?"

Sam nodded, distaste on his features. "It's a long story, but...we sort of ended up temporarily working with him."

Gabriel's eyebrows raised. "Winchesters working with a demon willingly? Times have changed."

"He was the only one who could find the first blade-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up." Gabriel held up a hand. "The  _ what?" _

Sam seemed to realize what he'd said. "...Like I said, it's a long story."

Gabriel studied Sam intently, and realized the extent to which things had changed while he was gone. "How about we head back to your batcave and you explain things on the way."

* * *

 

Gabriel had known the Winchesters were stupid, but he hadn't thought they could possibly be  _ this  _ stupid.

"Gabriel?" Sam glanced over at the passenger seat where Gabriel had his head in his hands.

"I cannot believe," Gabriel said, voice slightly muffled, "That things could have possibly gone this wrong."

"Yeah, well-"

"Do you two  _ never learn _ ?" Gabriel threw his hands in the air, narrowly missing Sam's head. "At  _ all?  _ The Mark of fucking Cain was your solution?"

"It was the only thing that could kill Abaddon-"

"Digging up her was stupid too!" Gabriel flicked Sam hard on the forehead.

"Ow!"

"I'd do a lot worse if you weren't driving!" Gabriel said, scowling. "What the fuck were you two thinking?"

"You know, maybe you could actually help instead of just criticizing me?" Sam shouted back, staring resolutely ahead as he drove.

"Help with what? Do you know what this means?" Gabriel demanded. "Dean died with the fucking Mark of Cain!"

"So?"

"So?" Gabriel said incredulously. "You were the one who was telling me about all the stuff it was doing to him three seconds ago! That Mark doesn't let go easily! If he died, no one brought him back, Sam, he came back on his own because of that godforsaken Mark!"

"What the hell are you talking about, Gabriel?" Sam sounded worried now, mixed with anger. "So the mark kept him alive?"

"What the fuck do you think it did to Cain? If Dean's out and about right now, he's a demon."

Absolute silence.

Sam was gripping the wheel so hard with his one working hand that his knuckles had gone white. "A demon."

"I'm sorry." Gabriel knew he didn't entirely sound like he was, but what Sam had told him - however good their intentions were, they were in the center of all of the problems that had so recently popped up, them and Castiel.

Sam let out a breath.

"You realize he's not coming back from this." Gabriel tested the waters, and was surprised when Sam let out a short bark of laughter.

"Yeah, I would have said too that if I didn't know how to cure demons."

"How to  _ what?" _ Gabriel gave Sam a look that clearly conveyed his feelings that the younger Winchester might have gone a little bit loopy. "You can't cure a demon."

"The Men of Letters know how to."

"Men of - oh,  _ those _ guys." Gabriel sagged back into the seat. "Of course you know about them."

"Apparently our dad-"

"Yeah, I know. It was news."

Sam sighed. Gabriel couldn't see his face, but he guessed that the former was making some sort of bitchface at the road in front of them. "Right. Of course you do."

"So that's where your batcave? Ex-Men of Letters headquarters?"

"Basically."

"Sounds fun." And Gabriel was only being partly sarcastic when he said that.

* * *

 

Gabriel whistled as he walked through the door ahead of Sam, who locked it behind himself. "Wow. Talk about old-fashioned."

"Well, no one's been here since Abaddon killed off the last of the old Men of Letters." Sam kept a hand on the railing as he walked down the stairs, not noticing Gabriel's eyes on him.

"So it's just you and Dean in here?"

Sam stiffened at the question, and Gabriel sensed that he'd ventured into unwelcome territory. "It was, yeah."

"Where's Castiel, anyway? I would have thought he'd be here, freaking out with you about Dean."

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I think he took care of Metatron, but...I don't know where he went. I've called, but he's not answering."

"Huh." Castiel was definitely still around, but Gabriel didn't know where he might be. "So, what, now you just hope I hang around and help with Dean?"

"Will you?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Are you joking? Hello, Mark of Cain? Cain's not supposed to just give that away, it's an insult. Dean is not supposed to have it.  _ Someone's  _ got to set this mess right."

"What about heaven?" Sam was leaning on the table - which for some reason had a world map on it - so that he was nearly sitting on it. "Aren't you worried about that?"

"Sure." Gabriel shrugged. "I'll worry about that later, because I've got no fucking clue what I'm supposed to do about it. Meanwhile, you can show me this demon-curing thing."

* * *

 

Gabriel watched the black-and-white video (on a projector with actual film, for crying out loud) with interest, because curing demons was something angels had never considered before - at least, as far as he knew. They usually stuck with just smiting them.

In this case, though, a smiting wouldn't really work.

"Hey, Gabriel." Sam ducked into the room as Gabriel was shutting the projector off. "I've got a case, actually, and-"

"I don't feel like joining you, if that's what you're offering."

"What - um," Obviously Sam had not expected the immediate rebuttal. "I wasn't-"

"I'm going to go track down Castiel." Gabriel spun on his heel, brushing past Sam out the door. "He's got to know something about heaven, and besides, I haven't seen him in ages."

"Alright." Sam checked his phone as he followed Gabriel back into the main area and then hurriedly tucked it away again. "Do you need a ride?"

"A ride?"

"You know..." Sam gestured vaguely. "Since you, uh, got caught in the Fall..."

Gabriel grinned fakely at Sam, but the latter wasn't aware of the forced emotion behind it. "Archangel, Gigantor. I'll be good."

* * *

 

Unfortunately, it was Gabriel's failing wings that caused him to take so long before he found Castiel.

The other problem was that Castiel kept moving around, and even in a car or whatever he was using to get around he still stayed just that tiny bit ahead of Gabriel, who couldn't just pop to their destination and meet them there since he didn't know where they were going.

It was late at night before Castiel finally stayed still long enough for Gabriel to find him properly. There were other angels with him - two Gabriel didn't recognize, one sitting next to him and the other across from both him and the first unknown. There was a third angel somewhere, Gabriel had overheard Castiel and the one in the female vessel talking, and suddenly the third was suddenly standing among the group with an unsheathed angel blade.

"We're not going back there. Not ever."

"Adina-" The second unknown, the only other one in a male vessel, sounded pleading.

"Stow the blade, please." Castiel's voice was as gravelly as ever, but he sounded almost hoarse as well.

"When she stows hers."

"Hannah, what-?" The first unknown - Hannah - had unsheathed hers in a flash of silver and was holding it tightly.

"We'll never get the chance to argue our freedom from the inside of a prison cell."

"You should've thought of that before slaughtering one of your own." Hannah's voice was cool.

"No, no." The only unnamed angel in the group sounded almost distraught. "We were talking, we were getting somewhere."

Gabriel decided that this would be a good time to intervene.

"I don't suppose I'm interrupting anything?"

His mild comment causes a variety of reactions.

All four of them spin around, the unnamed one jumping slightly from the chair he - or at least, the vessel was male - was sitting in. Castiel's eyes went wide, and Hannah's grip on her blade slackened and it fell to her side. Adina was still holding hers, but she was staring in shock at Gabriel as well.

"I'm gonna say one thing." Gabriel's voice went hard. "What. The fuck. Are you four doing?"

They all looked nervously at each other. Hannah opened her mouth to reply, but Gabriel held up a hand, cocking his eyebrow. "Well, Castiel?"

Castiel looked far less surprised to be singled out than the other three. "We just came to talk," He muttered. "Hannah asked for my help in persuading Daniel and Adina to return to Heaven."

"And I assume you're Daniel." The other angel with a male vessel nodded shortly. "Going off of what I've heard, you two don't want to go back." 

“Never,” Adina said. She looked furious and resolute, standing stiffly and glaring daggers at Hannah when she thought Gabriel wasn't paying attention. 

Gabriel turned back to Castiel. "Two angels making their own choices and you came to force them back to Heaven? Bit hypocritical, isn't it, bro?"

"They killed the first one we sent to persuade them." Hannah's mouth snapped shut when Gabriel turned his attention on her, but she didn't seem to regret speaking up. Good. Gabriel hated it when other angels were afraid of him.

Gabriel turned to Daniel. “Why did you kill them?”

Daniel swallowed, shrinking down in his chair. “Karael - he wouldn’t leave us alone. We weren’t doing anything wrong, we just wanted to be left alone. He kept trying to make us go back, and-” His eyes flickered to Adina. “I-I just wanted him to be gone.”

He was lying, Gabriel observed. It hadn’t been him who killed Karael.

Outwardly, Gabriel breathed in and then out evenly. “Alright.”

“Alright?” Hannah said, outraged. "They need to be punished."

"Oh,  _ punishment."  _ Gabriel rolled his eyes, inwardly grinning at the mass of confusion he could feel coming from all of them save Castiel. "Why are you all so fixated on that? What's so bad about these two staying on Earth?"

Daniel and Adina were staring fixedly at Gabriel. "We don't have to go back?" Daniel asked cautiously.

"You can't be serious!" Hannah turned to Castiel. "Castiel-"

The look he gave her quelled the rest of Hannah's sentence. "I don't see a problem with it," He said quietly.

"Are you - they killed our brother!"

"And why was that?" Gabriel asked, causing Hannah to wheel back around. "Because he was ordered to bring them back despite what they wanted?"

"You're taking their side?"

"I'm saying you’re both to blame." Gabriel pointed at Hannah. "You don't respect their wishes." The finger moved to point at Daniel and Adina. "And however much I'm for you two doing whatever the hell you want - within reason - you still killed another angel."

"We just want to be left alone," Adina burst out. "Is that too much to ask?"

"No." Castiel sounded almost relieved to say it. Hannah just looked incredulous. "Just - we have to make sure no one else will die."

"We won't kill anyone." Daniel had practically sagged with relief. “I didn’t want to-”

"I get it." Gabriel held up his hand again. "Castiel, can I talk to you? You too, stickler." Hannah made a face at the name.

Nodding, Castiel barely moved as Gabriel flew the two of them over to the car Castiel must have used to get here. He could faintly hear the noise of Daniel and Adina frantically packing up.

Even the short distance drew protest from his overtaxed wings. Inhaling sharply, Gabriel leaned against the car to keep his balance and shot Castiel a sharp look when the latter tried to help steady him.

"Gabriel-"

"Don't 'Gabriel' me. What have you been doing to yourself?"

"What do you-"

"You know exactly what I’m talking about! Where the fuck is your Grace? _ " _

Castiel almost physically jerked back in surprise at Gabriel’s sharp tone, and then hunched forward in resignation. "I don't know."

"Bull."

" _ I don't know.  _ Metatron...used it for his spell."

"Used-" Gabriel understood what Castiel meant a second after he started talking. "Oh,  _ Cas."  _ Hannah watched with a sharp gaze, but she didn't interrupt.

"What are you doing about it?" Gabriel let his eyes scan Castiel. "Castiel, that Grace isn't-"

"Going to last much longer. I know." Castiel avoided looking right at Gabriel. "I'm working on it."

"No, you're not." Hannah entered the conversation.

"Hannah-"

"What are you going to do, just let it kill you?" Gabriel demanded, grabbing Castiel's shoulder. "Why haven't you asked the Winchesters for help?"

Castiel stiffened under his hand, and Gabriel was abruptly reminded that as far as Castiel knew, Dean was dead.

Well, that explained a lot.

"Look - Castiel,  _ look at me."  _ Gabriel used his hand to pull Castiel's face around again, reminded of the time he'd spent in his brother's mind. "Just ask for help when you need help! Just because Dean's got a little problem-"

"That's how you're referring to it?" Castiel sounded angry, actually angry, and of course  _ Dean  _ would be his weak spot.

"He's not dead, now get in the car and I'll explain. We need to go find Sam and get this mess sorted out once and for all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehehe. Double Winchesters! I think you guys will appreciate the amount of SPN characters making an appearance.


	53. Adventures With the Winchesters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WAS GOING TO SAY SOMETHING ALONG THE LINES OF AN APOLOGY FOR THE LATE CHAPTER BUT I JUST WATCHED THE GRAVITY FALLS FINALE AND I CAN'T DO ANYTHING EXCEPT BE SAD SO HERE YOU GO

"Dean is a  _ what?" _

* * *

 

Gabriel was sitting in the backseat - and when had Castiel learned how to drive? Sure, he'd driven before, but that was in his mind, not in real life - and maybe sulking over getting stuck in the back while Hannah took the front seat when the prayer came.

_ Uh, Gabriel, I don't know if you're listening, but if you are and you don't mind I could use some help right about now.  _ Sam sounded panicked, or at least as panicked as a Winchester ever sounded. They could have a pretty good poker face when they wanted to.

"Figures," Gabriel muttered to himself.

"Gabriel?" Castiel looked up, frowning, and his eyes were reflected in the mirror back at Gabriel.

"I gotta bail for a minute, Cas, be right back."

"Wait-"

Gabriel did not, in fact, wait for whatever Castiel wanted because sitting in the backseat of the car going at what felt like about 20 miles an hour (which might have been kind of fast but was nothing compared to flying) was the most boring thing he had ever done in his very long life.

Considering how long it had taken Gabriel to track down Castiel, he found Sam fairly quickly, and immediately understood why he'd prayed.

"Wow, you really can't stay out of trouble for five minutes, can you?"

The man standing in front of Sam wheeled around. "What the hell-"

"Nope," Gabriel interrupted cheerfully, two fingers to the guy's forehead before he even realized it and the man crumpled. "Just an angel here to rescue the damsel."

"Thanks." Sam's voice was dry as as desert.

"Eh, I wasn't doing anything too important. Cars are really slow, you ever noticed?" Gabriel stepped over the guy and raised en eyebrow at Sam, who was zip-tied to a chair and bleeding slightly. "Winchesters really do attract trouble, huh? Who was he?"

Sam shrugged as best he could, wincing as Gabriel jarred his arm while snapping the plastic restraint.

"Whoops."

"It's fine. Uh, I've got no idea who he is. He was looking for Dean."

"Dean, huh? Think your brother messed with him recently?"  _ As a demon? _

"...I don't know. I don't think he knew about anything supernatural - he didn't know about monsters or anything." Sam stood up and then caught himself on the chair.

"Whoa, there, Gigantor, probably not a good idea with all that blood loss." Gabriel put a hand out to help steady Sam and then realized that, being physically much younger and about ten inches shorter he wouldn't be able to do much.

Sam blinked as the blood abruptly vanished from his face, no doubt feeling the effects of what Gabriel  _ could  _ do.

"Thanks."

"No problemo." Gabriel glanced at the man on the floor again. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say that you didn't find Dean."

"...No." Sam's face hardened as soon as Gabriel mentioned his brother. "I know where he is, though."

"Lucky."

"Where's Cas?"

"Oh, he and Hannah are somewhere in a car, I wasn't paying attention to what road we were on."

Sam frowned, successfully distracted from the topic of Dean. "Who's Hannah? Another angel?"

"Yep. What do you say we meet up with them and then do something about Dean?"

* * *

 

" Sam?"  Castiel's voice was tinny over the phone.

"Cas, yeah, hi. Look, uh, I think I got a lead on - oh." Sam seemed to come to a sudden realization.

"What?"

"Don't worry, I told him." Gabriel said, picking up the phone from where it was awkwardly positioned on the dashboard so that Sam could keep a hand on the wheel. "He means a lead on Dean, bro."

Gabriel could practically hear Castiel stiffen through the phone.

"Where is he? " Castiel demanded.

"We're in North Dakota right now, I managed to track him to this town but he's probably long gone by now." Sam answered - the phone was on speaker and Gabriel was holding it in between the two of them, so he could easily hear what Castiel had said.

" ...I see. " Castiel's voice was heavy. " Where in North Dakota?"

"Cas-"

" I can meet up with you and we'll go from there. Where are you?"

Sam sighed, breath gusting out. "We're near Fargo. How soon can you be here?"

" If Gabriel helps-"

"Sorry." Gabriel shifted in his seat, back rubbing uncomfortably against the back of it. "I may be able to fly but not that much in one day. You can drive up here, can't you?"

"Yes, but - Gabriel, if you can't fly-"

"I didn't say I couldn't, it's just uncomfortable."

"Right-" Sam interrupted before the conversation could go any further. "Cas, do you think you can be up here in a day?"

"I think so, yes."

"Great. Call me when you get here." Sam turned is attention back to the road and Gabriel pressed the end call button, putting the phone in his own pocket.

"When you say uncomfortable, you mean it hurts, right?" Sam asked quietly, darting a glance at Gabriel.

"Whatever." Gabriel let his head lean against the window of the car. Sam seemed to take that as a yes.

"If it hurts, then why-"

"You know, I don't recall offering to share my feelings with you, Sam." Gabriel snapped.

"I'm just trying to be helpful." Sam's brows had drawn down so that he looked like he was trying to stare down a demon. "I haven't forgotten what you did for us at the Elysian, you know."

"I was kind of trying to not remember that, actually." Gabriel scowled at the window. "What are you bringing up the Elysian for? That was years ago."

"So,  _ you  _ helped  _ us."  _ Sam dared a glance at Gabriel before concentrating on the road again. "Gabriel, you basically ensured that we could actually defeat Lucifer. I'm just trying to return the favor."

"Yeah, well find another way."

Sam huffed out a breath. "Fine, then. Who's your new vessel?"

Gabriel snorted, sitting up again. "Of course you would go straight for that. You Winchesters are always about the vessels."

Sam frowned. "You've been talking to Dean?"

"Other brother, Sam."

Sam almost crashed the car in surprise.

"Holy - what the hell, Sam!" Gabriel demanded as Sam swerved over to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes.

"I should be asking  _ you  _ that!" Sam spun around in his seat. He looked furious. "You've been talking to  _ Adam?" _

Gabriel realized the magnitude of the offhand comment he'd made. "Ah. Right."

"What the hell have you been doing with Adam?" Sam demanded. "How did he even get out of the Cage?"

"Alright, relax, Gigantor," Gabriel replied, leaning back slightly in his seat. "I don't know  _ how  _ he got out of the cage, he showed up out of nowhere!"

"Well then where the hell is he?"

"Same place I've been for the last few years!" Gabriel raised his leg and shoved Sam backwards. "Personal space, and stop  _ panicking,  _ Sam, your brother's fine. As far as I can tell, he got yanked out before getting stuck downstairs."

Sam relaxed once he heard that, but only slightly, his expression changing to become slightly more panicked. "Wait - if Adam's out-"

"Lucifer isn't, Sam, I checked myself. No Apocalypse." Gabriel made an X over his vessel's heart. "Promise."

Sam didn't look away. "What about Michael?"

"Ah.  _ Well..." _

Sam's hand tightened on the wheel and he glared at Gabriel. "Please tell me you're joking."

"I was serious when I said no Apocalypse."

Sam barked out a laugh. "Right. You expect me to just believe that when fucking Michael is running around-"

"Which one of us was spewing all that crap about the Elysian five seconds ago?"

The younger Winchester went silent and Gabriel cocked an eyebrow. "I know my sibling, Sam. Michael wouldn't be running around if I thought the end of the world was going to come about again."

Sam glared at the steering wheel so hard that Gabriel thought he might be trying to melt it.

"Sam-"

"I hear you, alright?" Sam held up a finger. "You're sure."

"Yep." Gabriel didn't add anything else - whatever his doubts about Michael, he was sure of at least that much.

Groaning in the back of his throat, Sam let his head hit the wheel with a dull thump. "I can't believe I'm doing this," He muttered, and then cleared his throat. " _ Fine -  _ but I swear if I hear about anything that sounds like seals breaking-"

"You'll stick me in holy fire, et cetera, et cetera," Gabriel finished, relaxing now that he knew Sam was not about to break out the holy fire. "Let's drive, how about? Since we're supposed to be meeting Cas and all. I got stuff to do."

* * *

 

Gabriel flew back home once Castiel and Sam were on the case - they would be able to handle things well enough - and was immediately ambushed by several smaller figures.

_ "Where did you go? _ " Demanded Slepnir.

_ "Hey, it's alright! I just got summoned. It happens sometimes." _ Gabriel detached Fenris from his leg and swung him up into his arms.  _ "Nothing big." _

_ "Yes, something big," _ Fenris argued, latching on again around Gabriel's neck.  _ "You left." _

_ "I know, I'm sorry." _

_ "Promise not to again." _

_ "I can't control when people summon me, kiddo." _ Gabriel ruffled Jormungand's hair as the older boy held the hem of Gabriel's shirt tightly.  _ "But lucky for you guys, it's not gonna happen again anytime soon." _

* * *

 

It didn't take long for the Winchesters to call again. About a day or two, actually. Gabriel might have laughed if he wasn't so annoyed.

_ Gabriel, now would be a good time to show up!  _ Sam's voice blared through Gabriel's head, making the archangel tense for a moment.

"What now?" He muttered to himself, curiosity piqued at the urgent nature of the call. It wasn't like Sam to sound so urgent, even if he was more likely to call for help than his brother.

Gabriel stretched his wings experimentally, and decided that he could probably make it.

He left a note with a snap of his fingers and was off, skidding as he landed clumsily in the bunker. Sam jumped in astonishment and nearly stabbed him.

"Mother of _ -"  _ Gabriel took a deep breath. "What the hell do you want?"

"Gabriel." Sam lowered the blade with a sigh and then jumped again as a hammer crashed into the wall next to his head, thrown from a few feet away.

"Sammy!" Dean rounded the corner and then stopped, reeling backwards, and Gabriel froze in surprise at the elder Winchester's blackened soul.

Well, demons were demons, even if they hadn't been demons for long.

The Mark of Cain shone like a brand on his forearm and Gabriel scowled, sending Dean shooting backwards into the wall of the bunker and pinning him there. "This is what you called me for?"

Sam gasped, and scrabbled for the knife he had, which Gabriel realized was their demon-killing knife. "No - it's Cas-"

Gabriel spun around and pushed Sam against the wall in the same instant, one hand fisted in the man's shirt. "What about Cas?" He demanded.

"It's his Grace!" Sam tried to push Gabriel away.

Gabriel snapped his fingers and Dean collapsed to the floor, unconscious. He didn't pay any attention to Sam's panic over his brother before his wings whipped out again, Grace seeking Castiel and finding a feeble pulse of Grace to hone in on.

His brother was slumped against the wall of the bunker a few hallways away from where Dean and Sam were, and Castiel looked up groggily as Gabriel slammed into the wall, rough landing abruptly cut short.

"Gabriel? I-"

"Shut up." Gabriel was next to his brother in an instant. "I told you to be careful, you idiot!"

Castiel coughed, his Grace flickering alarmingly. "I was-"

"Bullshit, Castiel, or you wouldn't look like this." Gabriel was frantically running through ideas in his head, but only one of them didn't involve Castiel's Grace magically appearing out of thin air to replace the borrowed one. "Cas-"

"Don't. I know you can't do anything." Cas slumped a little farther onto the floor.

Gabriel growled and hit the wall in frustration, ignoring the cracks he left behind. "I can. Cas-"

Castiel stared at Gabriel in surprise. "What-"

"You can?" Sam had arrived behind them while Gabriel was distracted. "Do it!"

"Cas!" Gabriel yanked his brother's attention back to him. "Do you trust me?"

"What does-"

_ " Do you trust me?" _

Cas swallowed heavily and nodded, breathing heavily. "Of course." His voice was more gravelly than normal.

"Good." Gabriel inhaled sharply. "Sam, I need a jar." Castiel's eyes widened in sudden understanding and he tensed under Gabriel's hand - which was solidly on his shoulder, in case the near-fallen angel decided he wanted to be suicidal - but didn't move.

"Now!" Gabriel snapped when the hunter showed no signs of moving, and Sam's feet suddenly pounded on the floor moving away from them as Gabriel unsheathed his angel blade.

"Don't move," He warned Castiel. His brother flinched anyway. His eyes squeezed shut in reflex when the silver blade cut a gash in his neck.

The kitchen was close, luckily - Gabriel had noticed it on his way to Cas, however fast he'd been going - and Sam's sudden shout was proof that he'd returned.

"Give it!" Gabriel shouted back, holding out a hand commandingly as whitish wisps of Grace started drifting onto the floor. "Sam, now!"

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam demanded, voice just as loud and Gabriel snapped, glaring fiercely as the jar appeared in his hand. He quickly opened it and held it close to Castiel, using his own Grace to coax the wisps and scraps - all that remained of the Grace that Castiel had borrowed - snaked into it, piling at the bottom and drifting sparsely as Gabriel screwed the top back on.

The jar was all but forgotten as Castiel groaned, and Gabriel immediately hoisted up his brother despite being half a foot shorter and quite a bit smaller when vessels came into the equation. "Give me a hand here, Gigantor!"

Sam was still furious, but he gave Gabriel a hand all the same and they managed to get Castiel onto a bed in the nearest bedroom, which happened to be Dean's.

Castiel was half-awake as they did so, and Gabriel rested a hand on his now-human (again, if what Metatron had told him was correct) brother's head. "Go to sleep," He said softly. "You'll feel better when you wake up."

Castiel caught his hand as Gabriel was about to pull away.

“I can’t,” he said. “Gabriel, I don’t want - if you think there’s any way to find my Grace-”

Gabriel’s expression softened. Castiel looked physically pained, lines of exhaustion drawn on his face.

“I’ll try,” Gabriel said softly. “We’ll figure this out, Castiel. You’re not going to be human forever.”

He left Castiel to rest and walked back to the hallway where they had been previously and picked up the jar, aware that Sam was following him like a cloud of doom.

"What the hell was that?" Sam asked dangerously.

_ " _T_ hat  _ was me being a damn sight more effective at saving my brother's life than you have," Gabriel snapped, tossing the jar at Sam. The hunter caught it on the tips of his fingers, scrabbling to keep hold of it.

Sam stared at the jar, and more specifically at what was inside it. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Depends on what you think it is, but I'm leaning towards yes." Gabriel slammed a random door open and realized he'd left Dean on the floor but couldn't particularly find it in himself to care at that exact moment.

"Gabriel, what - what am I supposed to do with this?" Sam demanded, following him.

"Put it in storage, I don't care," Gabriel said irritably. "What are you going to do about Dean, anyway?"

Sam straightened. "Oh - right." He pushed past Gabriel, handing off the jar of Grace as he went after his brother again.

Gabriel sighed and glared at the jar in his hand. "This is all your fault."

He might have been blaming a jar, but he wasn't about to yell at Castiel for getting himself into this mess.

* * *

 

Gabriel's first encounter with the also newly-human Dean (using so much Grace plus his wings meant Gabriel had to camp out in the bunker for now) was when the hunter tried to get back into his bedroom.

"I don't think so." Gabriel closed the door so sharply he almost crunched Dean's fingers, making the latter jump out of the way and reach for his gun.

"Sonuva - who the hell are you?" Dean demanded, hand already on the weapon.

"Wow," Gabriel replied dryly. "Your memory's even worse than I thought. You saw me yesterday, remember?"

Dean's eyes widened, and his hand fell back to his side. "That was you?"

"Who else would it be?" Gabriel smirked. It was good to have someone to rile up again.

Dean opened his mouth and the closed it again, hardening into a stubborn expression. "Why the hell are you locking me out of my own bedroom?"

"It's occupied."

"Occupied? By who?" Dean's expression shifted to disgusted. " _ You  _ weren't in there, were you?"

Gabriel scoffed at the accusation. "Hell no. What would I want with your bedroom? Castiel needed a place to crash is all."

"Cas?" Dean's interest sharpened immediately. "He's in there? Let me see him."

"Ohhh, no." Gabriel barred the doorway physically as Dean reached for the handle again. "You are not getting your creep on by watching my brother while he's asleep."

"Dude, you realize Cas does that to me like, once a week."

"So?" Gabriel raised one eyebrow challengingly. "Do I look like I care?"

"Let me in my fucking room, Gabriel." Dean tried to push past Gabriel again and Gabriel kicked his knee lightly, but hard enough that it made Dean stumble backwards.

"Oh, so you do remember me from ten hours ago." Gabriel said lightly as Deans swore under his breath. "I was wondering if your memory had started to go - that does happen with old age, you know."

Dean growled. "Gabriel, I swear to God-"

"Let's not bring my Dad into this." Gabriel cackled mentally - he could practically see the steam coming out of Dean's ears.

"Get out of the way!"

"Oh, by all means, keep demanding. I could do this all day."

"You know what? Fine." Dean threw up his arms and turned around, walking back the way he had come. "You do whatever the hell you want, I'm getting something to eat."

"Killjoy!" Gabriel called after him, leaning against the doorframe. He practically leaped out of the way when the door creaked open.

"Was that Dean?" Castiel whispered, but the creak had been enough to get Dean to turn back around.

"Cas, you alright?" Gabriel was now awkwardly stuck between his brother and the hunter - both of who incredibly unfairly towered over him, since his new vessel was even shorter than his old one.

"I'm fine, Dean." Gabriel edged out from inbetween the two taller figures as Castiel leaned forward slightly, holding himself on the doorframe. "And you're..."

"Not a demon anymore, yeah." Dean laughed. "You sure you're okay? Sam said you lost the Grace you got."

"I...think I am fine." Castiel frowned. "Being human is confusing."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Well this is touching." Gabriel grinned as the pair appeared to suddenly realize that he was still there. "I'm gonna go somewhere else before you decide to start making out to make each other feel better." His grin only got wider as Dean started blushing furiously and making incoherent noises that no doubt promised a painful demise, while Castiel tilted his head and looked as confused as ever.

"Dean, I don't understand, why would 'making out' make me feel better?"

Gabriel laughed out loud as he left to the background noise of Dean attempting to explain away Gabriel's comment while still blushing furiously.

"Screw you, too, Gabriel! Freakin’ angels."

* * *

 

"You're still here?"

"While I do appreciate that you recognize that I have a life outside helping you two, yes, I am."

Sam paused, and then apparently decided it wasn't worth it to pursue the topic and sat down with a sheaf of papers. "Hey, on the topic of Heaven..."

"I wasn't aware we were on the topic, but go on." Gabriel eyed the papers in Sam's hand and the neat characters drawn on it.

Sam followed Gabriel's line of sight and pushed the papers towards the archangel. "Um, we managed to translate a little bit of the angel tablet-"

" _ Excuse me?"  _ Gabriel paused in the act of reaching for the papers. "The  _ what  _ tablet?"

Sam huffed out a laugh. "Yeah. We had it for a little while, but then, uh, Metatron managed to get his hands on it."

"Of course," Gabriel muttered, rolling his eyes and snatching the papers. "And how exactly did you managed to - is this  _ Elamite?"  _ He looked up at Sam disbelievingly. "How did you managed to translate one indecipherable language into another one that hasn't been spoken for the last few millennia?"

Sam's mouth thinned, and he looked down at the table. "Kevin did."

"Thanks, that really helps." Gabriel huffed, sitting back in his chair. "What, he's the prophet of the Word?"

"He was, yeah." Sam's tone made Gabriel pause again.

"...Ah." Gabriel picked up the papers, flicking through them - Elamite wasn't exactly  _ difficult _ to read, despite how long it had been since Gabriel had last needed to. "Metatron's footnotes, huh? Didn't think he'd dare add his own stuff to Dad's Word."

Surprise flickered over Sam's face for the briefest second. "You were there when he wrote it down, weren't you?"

"I don't know what the tablets say," Gabriel bluntly shot Sam down, seeing the idea burgeoning in the Winchester's head. "The only beings Metatron hates worse than you three is us archangels. He never told us." He put the papers down. "And this is just his spell and some side notes - nothing important. If there was a way to undo it, your prophet didn't include it."

Sam sighed in disappointment, relaxing so that he sagged in his chair. "Yeah, I wasn't hoping for a whole lot. Crowley said as much."

"Crowley?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "As in, the demon who set himself up on the throne downstairs? Why'd he do you a favor like that?"

"We had him tied up in our dungeon."

Gabriel opened his mouth, paused, and then closed it again. "You know what? I don't want to know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment please i need to cheer up


	54. There Is More in Heaven and Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full chapter title: There is More on Heaven and Earth Than Is Dreamt of In Your Philosophy...and A Lot More Paperwork
> 
> In this chapter particularly I'm going to be using a lot of angels, so be prepared for new names to crop up. I'm just using a random name generator to come up with the names, since most of the angels we've seen previously in the show are dead.
> 
> Also, just so you know, all angel's pronouns are based off of their vessels at the time! Unless I decide that the angel in question is more androgynous than one gender or the other.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: There have been some heavy changes to this chapter, just letting you know! Mostly involving Michael's mother, for funsies. Hope you like it!

"Okay, hold up for one second."

Gabriel held up one hand, resisting the urge to hit something - or some one _ , _ preferably Sam - with the other hand. "You guys can still get back upstairs? And  _ no one  _ bothered to tell me that Metatron built a back door? Losers."

He might have used a stronger word, but Gabriel wasn't feeling it at that moment - saving Castiel had used up more energy than he'd expected, and it was like before fourth year all over again.

"Gabriel, I already told you-" Sam began, exasperated.

"You told me a lot of things, but the back door was not one of them!" It wasn't like he was an archangel or anything. Or their best fucking shot at resolving this whole mess. But no. Let's not tell Gabriel about the way back into Heaven.

"I have already offered to take you to the place." Hannah stated, confusion evident in her tone at why Gabriel was so upset when they could be going there right now.

"Let's  _ go,  _ then." Gabriel replied, abruptly standing up and making Sam look back up sharply. "Did you bring the car?"

He heard Hannah sigh at the idea of driving again. "Yes."

"Great. Lead on, Hannah."

* * *

 

Gabriel approached the playground with something like outright incredulity.

Of all the places they could have possibly picked to put the entrance to Heaven, this was what his siblings decided on?

He wondered about them sometimes, honestly.

Gabriel nodded at the angel on the bench, gesturing for them to sit down when they made to stand up. "It's fine, Gamaliel."

"Gabriel?" Their voice was astonished. "I thought-"

"Yeah, a lot of people did." Gabriel stepped carefully onto the design etched in the sandbox, giving it a glance of interest before looking back at Gamaliel. "Beam me up, Scotty."

Hannah and Gamaliel stared at him blankly.

"Come on - really?" Gabriel sighed. "Never mind. How does this work?"

Hannah shrugged. "Brace yourself," she warned, stepping up beside Gabriel. "It can be a bit uncomfortable."

"Shouldn't be that bad." Gabriel shrugged.

Gamaliel hesitated, and then activated the spell, smoky whiteness piling up around Hannah and Gabriel and carrying then Heavenwards.

* * *

 

Gabriel actually staggered as the ritual finished its work and deposited him and Hannah in Heaven with a final puff of fog.

"I take it back. That was horrible." Gabriel had a difficult time believing Metatron designed something like this, since the younger angel was so used to comfort, even in his time on Earth. Or at least, what he classified as comfort. Gabriel used a desk to briefly steady himself and then looked around at all the angels staring back in surprise. A number of them had jumped to their feet. He raised his hand, gesturing downwards. "At ease, or whatever."

"Gabriel." The angel standing nearest to them was one Gabriel didn't recognize, and she greeted them in astonishment. "And...Hannah?" The question was clear in their tone.

"Verchiel." Hannah nodded in greeting.

"What are..." Verchiel's eyes slid to Gabriel again.

"I'm just here to take a look around." Gabriel stood up, noting that he knew virtually no one in this particular area of Heaven. "See if I can't find the focus of Metatron's spell."

That made everyone in the room either sag with relief or perk up with interest. "We have been examining it, but no one's been able to identify how it worked," piped up another angel, one sitting in front of a small mountain of papers covered in Enochian.

Gabriel nodded. "Cool I might borrow that later - I want to go check something first."

"Of course." A third angel stood up hurriedly. "If you need-"

"I'll be fine on my own, thanks." Gabriel walked out of the room before any other angel could offer their assistance.

Heaven was far emptier than he remembered, but then again there were just as few voices in the back of Gabriel's mind nowadays. He saw no one while walking through the halls, but even the familiar manifestation of Heaven wasn't enough to distract Gabriel from the absence of so many of his siblings - if anything, the difference was highlighted against the stark, familiar background.

Sighing, Gabriel let himself stop. It had been a little easier in the room they'd been dropped in - it was one of the more modern parts of Heaven, something Gabriel hadn't seen before, but here it was all a grand imitation of architecture the likes of which humanity would probably never get even remotely close to creating.

It was a pressing reminder of how many years it had been since he'd set foot in Heaven, much less this hall. Six millennia was a long time even for an archangel, even if it was vastly outweighed by the time he'd spent here before anything had gone wrong.

Heaven still was his home, even after all this time. Gabriel had always given that title to his first home - Asgard could not have compared if the gods who lived there had been there and improved it over again for twice as long as the universe had been around.

And Gabriel, seeing it like this, felt like he'd failed a test he didn't know he was taking.

Shaking his head, Gabriel discarded those thoughts. He couldn't be distracted right now - first Metatron's spell, then nostalgia.

Walking towards the gates, Gabriel frowned. Heaven didn't precisely have a wall surrounding it, but it was distinctly separate from the larger universes and places like Purgatory and Hell, and therefore a gate was needed to exit into those places. Normally he'd be able to see almost everything through the gates, even from here, but all he saw was a blank surface full of shifting colors, as if the gates had simply vanished.

As Gabriel got closer, he realized the problem.

The gates weren't missing, they were  _ closed. _

"So that's what his spell did," he muttered to himself.

It made sense - Metatron wouldn't have been nearly powerful enough to close Heaven off with a spell, but using a spell to close the gates - well, Gabriel could have done it in his sleep.

Opening them, however, would be a whole different story.

The gates had been opened only once before - and that was only because before that, there had been no need for gates because Heaven was all that existed at that point. When the universe was created, the gates were created and opened so that the designated angels could act as protectors for all that their Father had created. Not that they did the best job, but that had been the point of it all.

Their Father had been the one to open it originally, and Gabriel doubted he'd be able to do so on his own. Especially with his Grace like this - it would be impossible.

If he had another archangel's help, maybe...but Gabriel would save that for a last resort.

"Great," Gabriel sighed. He put out a hand to run it over the gates, searching for the seam that would tell him where one door ended and the other began, and quickly yanked it back with a hiss. Something on the gate had  _ burned  _ him, singing not only his vessel but  _ him,  _ and Gabriel nursed his red palm and watched the gate with newly wary eyes.

Sigils flashed where his hand had touched the smooth surface of the gate, bright white against the wall, a circle of visibility rippling out from where his hand had been and fading as quickly as it came. Gabriel's quick eyes caught a sigil here and there, but the brief glimpses of Enochian didn't make him feel any better. In fact, it made his mood fall a little further. Metatron hadn't just closed the gates, he'd done his best to make sure no one would be able to open them again. 

Talk about taking a grudge too far.

* * *

 

Hannah looked up as Gabriel walked back into the room, making all the angels paying rapt attention to her look over as well. "Did you find anything?" She asked.

Gabriel nodded, borrowing the nearest empty seat and collapsing into it. "It's the gates. They're closed."

Several angels exchanged incredulous glances, while Verchiel frowned. "How did we not notice?" She muttered to herself.

"It looks like Metatron did his best to make sure no one would." Gabriel rested his head on his fist, keeping the burned hand resting in his lap with the palm facedown - his siblings had low morale already, and if they thought an archangel couldn't beat the spell, that would only get worse. "I get the feeling that if you weren't specifically looking for the gates, it wouldn't have occurred to anyone to check them."

"That makes sense." Hannah nodded, and then hesitated before asking another question. "Will you be able to open them?"

Gabriel hesitated, feeling the eyes of every angel on him. "...I don't know."

He could practically feel their collective morale plummet, and Verchiel's shoulders slumped. "Then it's impossible," she said.  


"I didn't say that." Gabriel leaned over and snagged one of the papers with Enochian scribblings. "You said you were working on a way to reverse it?"

The angel who had been using the papers jumped at being addressed. "Yes, um - we haven't gotten very far, though," they muttered.

Gabriel handed the paper back after giving it a glance over, eyebrows raising at the creative angle they had taken. "What's your name?"

"Hadriel."

"Hadriel," Gabriel repeated. It sounded familiar. "You were in Anna - Anael's garrison, right?" He had to hastily correct himself - of course no one here would have known Anna's name after she Fell.

"Yes," Hadriel answered, glancing sideways for the briefest moment at Verchiel as though wondering where this was going.

"Excellent." Gabriel slapped the table. "There's something written on the gates - I need you and anyone else remotely decent with sigils to take a look at it and see what you make of it."

Hadriel looked about as stunned as their true form was capable of. "But - me?"

"Yes." Gabriel pointed at the stacks of paper. "Or is that not yours?"

"No - it is, but-" Hadriel swallowed and nodded. "I will do my best - _thank_ you."   


"No need." Gabriel was using dismissive hand gestures a lot today. "If you can get something out of the sigils on the gate, then it'll be more knowledge than I've gained from it. What else have you been doing?"

Hannah cleared her throat. "Mostly restorative work - what with the clashes while we were exiled to Earth, some things have been...tense."

Gabriel nodded in understanding - what Metatron had given him, however unwanted, combined with what he'd learned by eavesdropping on angel radio didn't paint a pretty picture in terms of angels cooperating with each other. "There's no time for that now."

"With so few of us, it is hardly tolerable," Verchiel muttered, and Gabriel had the feeling he wasn't meant to have overheard.

"Set someone to make sure they know that, then." Gabriel was a little discomfited by the way he fell so easily into telling his siblings what to do. "If everyone's arguing with each other then we'll never get anything done."

"Of course," Verchiel said promptly. "And what else will you do?" She added carefully, the question phrased like she was afraid that she was prying into 'archangel business'.

Gabriel mentally moaned over the fact that the chair he was sitting in didn't have wheels, because he needed to do something other than just sit there, but getting up and walking around would be too awkward. Damn his siblings' sense of style. "I'll probably go back and talk to the Winchesters," was what he said aloud. "They do have a partial translation of the angel tablet - there might be something I missed."

"Back down there?" Hadriel asked in surprise.

"Where else would the Winchesters be?" Gabriel asked rhetorically, raising an eyebrow. "They may have been upstairs  _ and _ downstairs at least twice by now, but Earth  _ is _ where they spend the majority of their time."

"Of course." Hadriel looked down quickly.

"And what about Heaven?" Hannah had far fewer qualms about 'prying' into Gabriel's thoughts. "Bartholomew and Malachi may be gone, but their followers are still in discord."

Gabriel let his hand rest over his mouth, a flimsy cover for his frown, since true forms worked so differently and expressed themselves so oddly by human terms - to say nothing of angel radio - that his siblings could probably guess his feelings on the topic. "Verchiel," He said, the named angel focusing her attention on him in surprise. "I need someone to take care of that as well - at this point, infighting will just make things worse."

"That is easier said than done - but doable." Verchiel amended her words hastily. "Someone from Uriel's garrison?"

Gabriel considered it. "Yeah, that would be best - if you can find whoever Uriel's second was, even better." Uriel might have been commonly known as the funniest, but he had also been the best negotiator.

"Possibly," Verchiel said reluctantly, and the reason was clear - it was doubtful, if they had not come forward by now, that Uriel's second (whoever they may be) hadn't survived the Fall or the events leading up to it.

"Whoever's best at this sort of thing," Gabriel said decisively. "Whether it's Uriel's second or not, your choice."

"What about Metatron?" Hadriel asked curiously.

"What about him?" Gabriel replied. "He's in the dungeons, right?"

"Yes, near Gadreel's old cell." Hannah's reply made Gabriel's eyebrows raise - that meant they had locked up Metatron tight and deep, and who knew how many eons he might spend down there.

"Couldn't we question him?" Hadriel continued, when the gap in the conversation became apparent. "If he wrote the spell, he knows how to unwrite it."

"If you haven't gotten anything out of him, I won't." Gabriel said flatly. "Metatron is stubborn when he wants to be, and the only methods to get  _ that  _ knowledge only Naomi would have used."

His siblings exchanged glances, aware of the implication behind his words. "You are an archangel," Verchiel began.

"Which means Metatron hates me even worse than he does any of you for locking him up," Gabriel finished for his sister. "Sorry, but he'll give us no help, and at this point it would be ridiculous to even think of trusting anything he'd say."

"You underestimate us," Hannah informed Gabriel. "Metatron would not be able to trick his way out of his cell so easily."

"I'm not saying he would," Gabriel retorted. "I'm saying only he knows what Dad told him, and there could be any number of spells in his head. It's safer to leave him locked up."

"Then that is what we will do." Verchiel agreed, but her expression contradicted her nod of agreement.

"Good." Gabriel stood up sharply, sending the younger angel quickly stepping backwards to give him space. "How do I get back to Earth with that ritual?"

* * *

 

Michael was easy to find - ne practically glowed like a beacon, when Gabriel took the time to look.

"I didn't think you'd come looking for me." Michael was patiently curious, that much was the same. "What's the problem?"

"What makes you think there's a problem?" Gabriel retorted.

Michael gave Gabriel a flat look. "You wouldn't have come to me for anything else."

"True enough." Gabriel stayed standing, despite wishing the Winchester's Earth wasn't quite so far away - his wings were under enough stress as it was and he could use somewhere to sit, but he'd take whatever advantage he could get over Michael - even if it was just a height advantage. “I thought you’d still be at Grimmauld place.”

“Why should I be?” Michael asked. “This is my home.” It was a nice little house on the outskirts of London, near an Underground stop (or Gabriel though so, at least, he’d spotted it on the way in). Gabriel had never been to Michael Corner’s house before. If he had before knowing who Michael really was, he would have loved it.

"I was just mentioning it." Gabriel might have rolled his eyes, but making small conversation was awkward when he didn't even want to be there.. "I figured you should hear what I found out about Metatron's spell."

Michael's interest was immediately captured, and ne leaned forward. "What?"

"I managed to take a look upstairs." Gabriel, seeing nir expression, continued quickly before he could be interrupted. "His spell didn't put a barrier around Heaven, just closed the gates."

Michael nodded in understanding, glancing around the room as if it would help nem think. "It's not going to be easy to open those again."

"No," Gabriel agreed reluctantly. "It would take two archangels, at least."

Michael laughed, sounding breathless and sardonic at the same time. "So your motive is revealed," ne said sarcastically.

"There's no need to be rude." Gabriel almost didn't say the next words. "It's your home, too. Not just this place."

That made Michael pause, whatever ne was about to say swallowed in favor of quiet.

"Well?" Gabriel asked when the silence began to drag on and Michael still didn't say anything, crossing his arms. "What are you going to do?"

"Of course I'll help." Michael said immediately.

"Great." Gabriel said flatly, dropping his arms. "So now we actually have a shot."

"When are we going to take it? Now?" Michael questioned.

Gabriel shook his head. "No, there's something on the gates - I couldn't touch it. Metatron did his best to try and trip up anyone who was trying to undo this spell."

"That's...not good." Michael shook nir head. "You couldn't even touch them?"

"Nope." Gabriel shrugged, keeping his bad hand turned away from Michael and absentmindedly rubbing it.

Michael's mouth tightened and ne stood, moving over to the bed as well. Gabriel shifted away slightly, but more or less stayed where he was, watching his sibling with slight wariness.

"Give me your hand," Michael said, holding out nir own.

Gabriel didn't pretend to not know what Michael was talking about. "It's fine."

Michael snorted and pulled Gabriel's wrist towards nemself anyway. Gabriel (after a brief mental debate) let nem. "How do you manage to keep burning yourself?"

"Accident?" Gabriel suggested, wincing as Michael pressed nir fingers into his palm. "Fuck, if you're just trying to hurt-"

Michael shot him a glare and moved nir hand again sharply - this time, the burned skin retreated along with it until not only his vessel but Gabriel was untouched.

Gabriel flexed the hand, snatching it back from Michael's grip. He didn't thank nem.

Michael didn't draw attention to it, though Gabriel didn't doubt that ne had noticed. "When do you plan to try and reopen the gates?"

"As soon as it's actually possible." Gabriel stood up, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Hadriel is working on the wardings, and I already told them to recruit anyone else possible to help. Verchiel's looking for someone who can help organize things."

"What about someone from Uriel's garrison?" Michael suggested.

"I said that already, actually. But it's more take-who-we-can-get than pick-and-chose." Gabriel reminded his sibling, less politely than was probably necessary.

"Right," Michael said heavily, shaking nir head. "I forgot."

The creak of the door opening made them both whirl around in surprise. The woman who opened it stopped dead.

“I didn’t know you had a guest, Michael,” she said, recovering quickly. Gabriel eyed Michael, noting how ne had stiffened at her entrance.

“He came unexpectedly,” Michael said. “Mum, this is Gabriel.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Corner eyed Gabriel up and down. “A friend of yours.”

“My younger brother,” Michael said, a little stilted. Gabriel caught the tension that thickened between them like a cord, and his desire to leave intensified.

“I see,” Mrs. Corner said. Now that Gabriel thought, he remembered her - they’d met a year or two before, in the Leaky Cauldron, before school started. When Michael was just Michael. Her name was Nia. “Well, I was only curious, I heard talking, but I’ll leave you two alone-”

“No - wait.” Michael practically leaped to nir feet. “I thought - maybe you two could talk?”

“Talk?” Nia echoed skeptically, perfectly expressing Gabriel’s own thoughts. He stared pointedly at Michael, but his sibling was looking at nir mother. “About what?”

“About the angel thing.” Michael sounded  _ hesitant.  _ “I know - I mean, I thought another perspective might help-”

“What are you trying to volunteer me for?” Gabriel hissed. Michael turned pleading eyes on him, which was startling enough that Gabriel couldn’t think of a good way to excuse himself.

Nia was eyeing Gabriel in a distinctly different way; wariness lurked behind a guarded expression, but there was a good deal of curiosity, too. 

“Alright,” she said, beating Gabriel to the punch of breaking the silence. “Let’s talk.”

* * *

 

Michael excused nemself from the conversation, probably assuming ne would only be a distraction. Gabriel thought ne was probably right. 

The Corners had a nice flat, and the living room was full of comfortable-looking furniture. Gabriel paused at a side table full of photos, picking up one that featured a much younger Michael being held by a man that ne closely resembled. Michael was in most of the pictures, with one or both parents.

“I probably don’t measure up to God, but I do take a lot of photos,” Nia joked nervously. She sat down on the sofa and sank down several inches, managing to stay on the edge despite how it seemed to be doing its best to swallow her.

“You’d be surprised.” Gabriel put the photo down. There was a larger one at the back of the table of all three of them in a heavy silver frame. The light gleamed off the glass in a way that obscured almost everything except Michael’s broad grin.

“I wouldn’t think God’s kind of parenting would result in a bad childhood.”

“We didn’t have one the way you’d conceptualize it.” Gabriel turned away from the photos and perched on the arm of a cushiony chair. “Angels aren’t of the earth or the universe like most living things are. We don’t need time for brain development or much growing at all. We just spring into existence at His will.”

“An awful lot of you seem to _look_ like children,” Nia said.

Gabriel's mouth twitched into a smile. “This is temporary, and Michael’s the exception.”

Mentioning Michael seemed to cast a damper on her mood. Nia’s fingers tapped on her knee for a few moments, and then she threaded her hands together to keep them still. “It’s not common, then, for this to happen?”

“Not really.” Gabriel shrugged. “Falling - that’s what Michael did, by the way.” In a certain fashion, at least. “It’s not an option many would consider.”

“Why not?”

“If you knew you had the choice, would you choose to give up your soul and be a dog?”

Nia frowned. “That metaphor is a little insulting.”

“To be honest, there’s no good way to go about explaining it in metaphor.” Gabriel slid down into the chair and let himself sink into the cushion. “Nobody thinks of it because it’s unthinkable that any angel would want to be human. It’s a last resort. And it’s a punishable offense, technically.”

“Punishable by who?” Nia sounded startled. “God?”

“Michael.”

There was a pregnant pause as Nia glanced towards the hallway which led to Michael’s room.

“But  _ they _ fell,” she said. “Why would they become human if they thought it was so terrible?”

“It’s...complicated.” Divine intervention and their complicated relationship with God was not something Gabriel wanted to discuss with someone who was technically a random lady. “I think it would probably be better if Michael told you nemself.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s a pronoun,” Gabriel said after a moment, realizing what had confused her. “I guess it’s probably the closest translation of the one we normally use.” Xie might also work, but that wasn’t what Michael had called nemself.

“They - Michael, I mean, has always been fine with neutral ones.”

Gabriel shrugged again. “It’s how ne referred to nemself. And a lot’s changed with nem recently.”

Nia glanced over at the hallway again, and then seemed to force her attention back onto Gabriel. “I didn’t know angels had their own language.”

“We tend to speak whichever one will make us understood, if we talk to humans,” Gabriel said wryly. “I’ve done a lot of that over the years, and it only makes things more complicated if you insist that they learn a language that’s technically not meant to be spoken aloud before receiving their Heavenly message.”

“Not meant to be spoken?” Nia frowned. “Language would inherently be spoken, I think, unless it’s limited to paper, and that seems a rather backwards way of doing things.”

Gabriel grinned at her. “Existing in Heaven is different than existing on Earth. It’s hard to speak a language aloud without proper vocal chords or anything else.”

“ _ Can  _ it be spoken aloud?”

“Oh, sure. Human innovation does wonders once enough people set their mind on something. It’s a bastardization of it, since the only way for a human to really be able to speak it would be if they spontaneously developed telepathy, but they certainly tried.”

“Could magic do it?”

Gabriel shrugged. He was doing that a lot. “Never seen anyone try and manage  _ that. _ ”

Nia hesitated. Her fingers twitched, and she appeared to tighten her grip. 

“I don’t understand why Michael wanted me to speak to you,” she said finally. “I suspect it involves them -  _ nem,  _ however, so I might as well start with Michael.”

Gabriel’s smile faded. He extricated himself a little from the armchair mimicking Nia’s ramrod straight posture.

“At a guess,” he said, “Michael thinks that if I could tell a random woman that she was carrying God’s child and make her accept and believe that, I’ll be better than nem at smoothing over whatever’s going on between you two. Three.”

“Two,” Nia said tightly. Her eyes did not stray to the photos. “Jackson passed away.”

“Oh.” Gabriel did glance at the photos, at the smiling man who looked so much like Michael. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Nia said, and appeared to mean it. “It was a long time ago, before Michael left for Hogwarts.” She snorted, but not in an amused way. “It seems like magic is where it all started.”

“I doubt it,” Gabriel said. 

“Why?” Nia’s voice got sharper. 

“Just seems unlikely,” Gabriel said. “For nem to fall and be able to remember on nir own, to retrieve nir Grace - it probably wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t found it.”

“Grace?” Nia questioned. “What’s that?”

“Power,” Gabriel said simply. “Or - power, and the equivalent of an angelic soul. One-half of what makes an angel.” He gestured, bringing his hands together and then separating them. “When an angel falls, half splits off, the half that’s purely them, I guess, and the other half - their Grace - goes another way. What’s left of the angel finds the nearest human trying to conceive and the rest hits the ground and, I dunno, waits to be found.” Gabriel let his hands drop. “Normally it grows into something and just sits there forever.”

“It doesn’t exert a magical pull on whoever it belongs to?” Nia’s dry tone made Gabriel laugh.

“As soon as they’re human, it doesn’t belong to them anymore,” he said. “To take that power back, you have to take the memories of who you used to be. Be human and angel simultaneously.”

“And that’s what Michael is.”

“I guess.”

“Do better than a guess,” Nia said flatly. Gabriel tilted his head up, looking her up and down with the faintest smirk.

“No wonder you ended up with nem,” he said. “You’re the kind of person Michael would gravitate to.”

Nia looked startled. “Why is that?”

“Ne’s used to parents who are confident enough to boss around archangels.” Gabriel watched in amusement as realization flashed across Nia’s face. “I don’t take offense. I’m just sayin’.”

Nia huffed a sigh and leaned back into the sofa. “Michael  _ isn’t  _ balancing it out, though,” she said. “They - ne is acting very unlike the Michael I knew.”

“So remind nem to be,” Gabriel said. “I don’t know, I’m not a therapist, but from here it looks like you’re both fumbling to try and get back to where you were before. Or at least  _ trying  _ to make it work. Stop trying separately.” While Nia was looking at him in surprise, he extricated himself from the depths of the chair and stood up. “That’s about as much unbiased advice as I can stand to dish out, so I think I’ll be going.”

“Wait,” Nia said. Gabriel paused, and turned. “Was Michael a good sibling?”

Gabriel  _ hoped  _ none of the panic that he was feeling was visible on his face. What was he supposed to tell her? The truth?

“I only ask because...” Nia faltered, in the silence that Gabriel left for her to speak into. “I know my child, but there’s not much of a way for me to know who ne was before.”

“...Michael was the obedient son,” Gabriel managed eventually. “You could take that as good, I guess.”

He left in a rustle of feathers before Nia could ask him any more questions.

* * *

 

The phone call took Gabriel by surprise. Mostly the way it rang, since it had been changed  _ again  _ to sound like La Bamba, but once Gabriel realized it was the phone he answered it quickly. “Hello?”

"Gabriel?" The voice on the other end was vaguely tinny and very familiar.

"Hermione!" Gabriel grinned, twisting around in his seat with the phone held to his ear. "I didn't think I'd get a call from you!"

"I just got back from France." He could hear her smile.

"What is this, the second year you've been there?"

"We always go abroad over the summer." Hermione's voice sharpened. "Speaking of abroad, I got a letter from Ron telling me something they'd overheard from the Order."

Gabriel paused, an expectant silence ringing from the other end of the phone. "Okay?" He said eventually. "What do you want me to say?"

"Are you joking?" Hermione demanded. "Am I the only one of us who isn't secretly an angel?" Her tone became suddenly worried. "I'm not an angel, am I?"

"What - no. Believe me, we'd know by now if you were an angel too." Gabriel smiled, even though Hermione couldn't see it. "How was France?"

"Don't change the subject. How's Michael? I sent nem a letter but ne hasn’t replied yet."

"Ne might be busy."

"Are you working on the problem you said was happening?" Hermione's voice dropped. "In Heaven?"

"Sort of. Come on, Hermione, I want to talk about something other than that for once."

"I haven't brought it up before."

"You haven't. That doesn't mean no one else has."

"Fine." There was a huff over the phone. "France was nice. I don't get what so many people have against it. I finished all my work - what about you?"

"Done, Hermione, you underestimate me."

"I don't think I do. You're as bad as Ron sometimes."

"Yeah, well, Ron isn't an all-powerful being."

"Don't brag."

"I'm not bragging, Hermione. It's called confidence."

"On you, it's called overconfidence." Hermione laughed. "How are your, um, kids?"

"Oh, they're great." Gabriel glanced up at where Adam was being soundly beaten three-to-one on the lawn outside the window. "Having a ton of fun, really. Makes me kind of wish I could just skip the next couple years at Hogwarts."

"Don't you dare!"

Gabriel laughed. "Relax, Hermione, I'm still coming. Where would I be without all the time I spend around you?"

Hermione was silent for a moment, but Gabriel just waited patiently for her to talk again. "You're good with Michael, though, right?"

"Sort of."

"What does 'sort of' mean?"

Gabriel exhaled slowly. "It means I found out one of my closest friends is actually my older sibling and I'm dealing with it."

"Michael’s older than you?"

"Come on, Hermione, that's really what you're going to focus on?"

"Sorry." Hermione's voice was tinged with amusement. "Well, I'll see if Michael writes back. Good luck with whatever you're doing with angel stuff."

Gabriel smiled wryly. "I think I'll need it."

"See you in a few weeks."

* * *

 

A few weeks, as it turned out, happened to be the same amount of time that it took for Hadriel to contact Gabriel again.

_ Gabriel.  _ The younger angel's voice whispered into Gabriel's mind.  _ I and my helpers have managed to dissemble a portion of the spell which guards the gate - it's harmless now, but still closed. _

_ Really? _ Gabriel sat up, looking at nothing in particular as he listened to Hadriel.

_ Indeed. What should we do next? _

_ Keep going,  _ Was Gabriel's immediate reply.  _ Do whatever you can to continue. I'll be up asap. _

He could sense Hadriel's confusion, but his sibling didn't ask the question no doubt itching at their mind.  _ Very well. _

Gabriel let himself grin as Hadriel withdrew from angel radio, but that grin faded as he realized that while they were that much closer to opening Heaven, he'd have to work with Michael now.

He could deal with it for that long, Gabriel told himself.

He'd have to, unless he wanted to trap his siblings permanently in this state.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well Gabriel wouldn't just LEAVE things the way they are now


	55. Instant Angel - Just Add Grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup guys! It's Monday! And I don't even have that much homework!
> 
> FYI, just because I'm cool like that, there is a bit of music that goes along with this chapter! There's a link to it at the moment it should start playing to be timed right. I think it makes everything much more dramatic :D
> 
> I read through this several times to make sure the music was timed perfectly. I think you'll like it if you try it.
> 
> Anyway. Onwards! And a good twist for everybody's favorite...

Michael, to nir credit, didn't jump when Gabriel entered the room, even with the commotion Gabriel made with his landing.

"Back already?" Ne didn't turn around.

"I know you heard Hadriel." Gabriel cut right to the chase.

Michael frowned, and ne stood up and faced Gabriel, chair scraping against the floor. "No, I didn't. I don't usually make a habit of eavesdropping. Why?"

Gabriel ignored the perceived jab. "They've managed to take most of the enchantments off the gate - about all that's left is whatever is keeping them together, and they can't undo that one."

That made Michael stand even straighter, nir expression one of sudden understanding. "Then you came here-"

"Because you said you'd help." Gabriel kept his voice flat. "I'll assume you remember the way to the right Earth?"

Michael nodded absently - of course, ne would have immediately noticed that this was an alternate one. Nir hand flexed and Gabriel eyed it warily - ne was letting it hang a little too close to nir sword for his comfort.

"Let's go, then," Michael decided, moving over to Gabriel. "I can fly us-"

"I'll fly on my own, thank you," Gabriel retorted, not letting nem finish. "I've done it before."

"Yeah, and your wings are even worse than before." Michael's mouth was a flat line.

"My business, Michael, not yours." Gabriel took off before Michael could try and persuade him some more, and his wings did protest it, but he landed safely - if not very well - on the playground Hannah had taken him to before. A flutter of wings that were a bit less ragged than his own proved that Michael had followed him.

"A playground?" Michael asked, as surprised as Gabriel had been, and then ne noticed the angel who had just leaped to their feet.

"Michael!" Gamaliel was even more astonished than they had been to see Gabriel, having dropped whatever it was they were working on. Anyone who might have been watching would have been surprised that a seemingly old woman could move so fast.

"It's alright." Michael raised nir hands quickly, the same gesture Gabriel had made. "You don't have to stand, Gamaliel."

Personally, Gabriel thought that the movement was less out of respect and more out of the fact that it afforded better defense than if Gamaliel had stayed sitting.

"But-" Gamaliel's astonished eyes went to Gabriel, who had stepped out of the small furrow his landing had made in the grass. "We thought-"

"I know." Michael's tone was almost apologetic, but firm as ne stepped into the sandbox carefully. "First things first, though."

"Of course." Gamaliel quickly picked up their work again - Gabriel guessed that within it, the key to whatever mechanism made the spell work was hidden.

Gabriel stepped over the edge of the sandbox as well, careful not to smudge the lines - the circle was as fresh as the last time he'd been here.

"It may be a bit unpleasant," Gamaliel warned Michael.

"I can deal with it."

"Don't be so sure," Gabriel muttered.

* * *

 

The smoky ritual was indeed just as uncomfortable and disorienting as it had been the first time. Gabriel stepped out before it fully finished, nearly losing his footing before his foot found the floor and he stepped out into the same room full of angels, although this time it looked a good deal more crowded, and they were all looking expectantly at the sudden fog.

Hannah looked up from where she was standing nearby, next to a desk manned by an angel Gabriel didn't recognize. "Oh, good - you did get Hadriel's message. They said you replied, but I wasn't-"

Then the smoke vanished and Michael walked forward, and the words died on her lips.

Gabriel was suddenly aware that virtually everyone had stopped talking at once, silence descending on the room. Michael had to have noticed it too, but ne only smiled slightly and didn't comment on it.

_ "Michael?" _ Hannah looked astonished, but her body language spoke a different story - her limbs were stiff, and her left arm was perilously close to her blade. Several of the other angels in the room seemed to agree with her, but the rest of them were either those who gaped wordlessly or those who had dropped whatever they were holding in surprise.

Hadriel belonged to the latter group. "How...how did you..." Their eyes moved to Gabriel, and in surprise, he noticed that most of the room was looking at him for an answer.

Huh. That was...not new, but unfamiliar. He twitched under the scrutiny.

"We'll talk later," he promised. "Don't we have some gates to open?"

That startled at least some of them into motion.

"Of course," Verchiel said quickly. "I'm sure Hadriel told you we managed to get most of the enchantments off of them - it took longer than expected."

"That's fine." Gabriel reassured her. "So all that's left is whatever is keeping it shut?"

Hadriel nodded. "I...I don't quite know what the last one is. I didn't recognize the sigils, or what power Metatron used."

"Well, he did have the tablet," Gabriel muttered, more to himself. "Who knows what kind of knowledge was in there."

"God knows," Hannah amended for him.

"Sure, but I don't see Him volunteering to help." Gabriel could see that the comment made his siblings uncomfortable, so he switched the topic. "Anyway. Just the one enchantment?"

"Yes," Hadriel nodded. "Will you be able to-?"

"I don't know. That's why I brought backup." Gabriel jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Michael, who had remained strangely quiet this whole time, and started walking towards the doorway. "We'll see what we can do."

[Before](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tx783Z5gso) the quietness of Heaven had unnerved him, but now Gabriel was grateful for the lack of questions and the chaos that undoubtedly Michael's return would bring. Already he could hear the whispering in the back of his mind that meant the news was already being spread, but he didn't concentrate on it. What use was news he already knew?

"You said we." The footsteps on the floor and told Gabriel that Michael had walked out after him, but the quiet voice still made him jump slightly.

"Don't get used to it." Gabriel kept striding along, and next to him Michael was looking around.

"It seems emptier than usual." Why did Michael have to pick now of all times to try and make small talk?

"Just because there aren't as many angels around anymore."

Surprisingly, Michael laughed quietly in response. "I've been gone too long."

"...You couldn't really help it." Gabriel had no idea why he was reassuring his sibling, and closed his mouth tightly once those words escaped. They continued to walk in silence.

The gates were tall as ever, and Michael craned nir neck up as the pair approached. "I almost didn't see where they ended and the wall began. How long's it been since they were last closed?"

Gabriel shrugged, casting his gaze over the wall. It didn't look any different, but he didn't think Hadriel would have lied. Cautiously, he put one hand on it.

The gate wasn't cold, but it wasn't really warm either, and most importantly it didn't burn Gabriel this time. The colors continued shifting under his hand, moving so quickly that it was impossible to tell where one began and the other ended, or even what color the gate was.

"What sigils was Hadriel talking about?" Michael was frowning slightly.

"I didn't see any last time until I burned myself, but..." Gabriel reached with his Grace this time, and jumped back as whatever power was keeping the gates shut struck back at him and sent a spike of pain through his wings. "Fucking-"

It had done the trick, though, and the sigils wavered over the gate for the briefest second, rippling like water and almost as transparent. Michael had jumped too at Gabriel's shout, and nir attention looked to be only partially on the already-fading symbols.

"Why do you keep doing that to yourself?" Michael asked in frustration.

"I don't see you helping." Gabriel shook out his hand, but the brief spike of pain was only temporary. "I don't think that spell is just going to let itself be undone."

Michael's gaze was contemplative as it switched to the gate. "Not even with the both of us?"

Gabriel shook his head. "I only touched it for a moment."

"What do you suggest, then?" Nir voice wasn't accusing, just an honest question.

Gabriel considered Michael's question, staring up at the gates again. "These gates open outwards, don't they?"

It took Michael a minute to get what he was implying. "You're not serious."

"Why not? Unless you've got another idea." Gabriel smirked. "There are two of us, after all."

"Yeah,  _ two  _ of us. Gabriel, these are..." Michael shook nir head. "What if it doesn't work?"

"What if it does?" Gabriel shot back.

Michael still seemed doubtful, but ne approached the gates anyway.

"Do you remember how this went the first time?" Ne asked, one hand resting on the left gate.

"No idea." Gabriel stretched out his hands in front of him, and then threw his weight and Grace at the right gate at the exact moment that Michael did the same to the left.

They shuddered under the combined assault. Colors twisted wildly under the sigils. Transparent blue runes flickered in and out of sight as both archangels strained against the gates, pushing all their strength and power against it.

Wincing, Gabriel felt the spell batter back at them, but divided between two of them it wasn't enough to make them stop, but it did take a bit out of his Grace. His hands were glowing with the amount of power he was using in one go, and one rune directly under it was practically vibrating. He could feel echoes of the movement, and with an echo of noise it  _ shattered. _

Several of them did, at the same time. With a groan and the sound of the gates sliding against the floor they opened the barest inch, sliding outwards a minuscule distance. Blue energy danced around the tiny crack, but Gabriel was grinning as he pushed. One more set of sigils snapped and vanished, the sound audible and echoing.

There was still some sort of power forming ropes in the gap that had formed between the doors. It was writhing like any live energy would, and slowly but inexorably the gates were refusing to be opened any further. One more centimeter was gained, and then in a heart-stopping moment both Gabriel and Michael slid backwards as the door closed a tiny bit, almost ruining what they'd managed to do.

Gabriel knew what they needed.

A wordless call, one that echoed through all of the time and space Heaven occupied, and it originated from Gabriel -  _ we need your help. _

Things seemed to freeze for a moment, as the last strains of the message faded through empty halls.

Then there was a flutter of wings, so many that the noise echoed through the hall like thunder, and suddenly angels were crowding around Gabriel, pushing at the gate and so many arms and hands that if you had asked Gabriel how many had answered he wouldn't have had an answer.

The blue energy crackled even more fiercely under the renewed onslaught, the gates straining against them, the sigils were quavering like water in an earthquake and fragmenting even more now that so many were working against them every angel that could reach the gates working together for one moment, and then with a sudden jerk the energy binding the gates snapped.

The double doors fell out from under Gabriel's hands and all of them staggered, but Gabriel's attention was not on his siblings but on the bluish energy that was still gathered into a cloud, because he'd suddenly realized  _ exactly  _ what Metatron had done with Castiel's Grace.

Metatron had obviously thought that the Grace of the stubbornest angel in Heaven would have been the perfect solution to keeping the gates shut, but even little Castiel would never have been able to stand up to that many angels at once.

His Grace was sluggish after so much of it being expended on the gates, but Gabriel managed to make a small vial. Castiel's Grace drew into it reluctantly, as if it were wary of being confined again, but soon Gabriel held a little vial of Grace.

Gabriel slipped it into the pocket of his jacket, and at that point noticed that Michael was standing in front of him.

"I guess you were right after all," Michael said. "Even though it took more than just us."

"Of course I was right." Gabriel smoothed a hand over the pocket absentmindedly.

A smile tugged at Michael's mouth. "So what now?" Ne asked. "We just ignore each other until September?" Ne was smart enough not to mention Hogwarts around the other angels.

Gabriel could sense curious eyes on the two of them, and he walked backwards as he spoke, towards the now-open gates. "Well, I don't know about you, but I've got something to deliver to Castiel."

With a cocky grin, Gabriel stepped over the edge of the entrance and let himself fall.

Not properly Fall, of course, but just the simple action that happens when gravity takes over and there's nothing under you.

His wings unfolded on instinct and it was  _ amazing  _ when the flight went so much smoother than Gabriel had gotten used to. Galaxies and planets and all sorts of stars went streaming by as Gabriel swooped down from Heaven, time and space moving as fluidly around him as water as the Winchester's Earth rapidly entered his view, oceans and clouds and continents turning quickly as the planet moved through space.

But not as quickly as Gabriel moved.

Both of the Winchesters jumped to their feet when Gabriel landed in one of the many rooms of their Bunker. Castiel, who was sitting at the end of the long table, simply cocked his head.

"What are you doing here?" Dean demanded.

"Rude." The effects of using so much Grace in one go were beginning to catch up with Gabriel, so he slid a chair out and flopped into it. "And here I was going to do something nice for you guys."

"Sorry?" Even though Sam claimed to trust Gabriel, he still looked skeptical. "Doing something nice for us? What?"

Gabriel thumped the jar down on the table.

He slumped further in his seat - damn, he hadn't realized how much energy reopening the gates had taken - as every eye went to the jar and the glowing substance it held. Castiel had stiffened, staring at it in incredulity.

"Is that-" Sam began.

"Castiel's? Why yes. How'd you guess?" Gabriel finished for Sam, noticing that Castiel had switched to looking at him in surprise.

"How?" He breathed, eyes refocusing on the jar.

"Well, I found what Metatron used it for. Getting this was sort of an unexpected side effect." Gabriel waved one hand airily.

"Side effect of what?" Dean asked brusquely.

"You know, a 'thank you' wouldn't go wrong," Gabriel said dryly instead of answering. "I mean it's not like I just brought Castiel's Grace back or anything."

"Yeah, I get it, you're doing all this crap for us."

"Dean-" Castiel began.

"Shut up." Dean leaned forward. "What the hell do you want? Don't think I've fucking forgotten the  _ last  _ time you showed up-"

"Funny, I thought I kind of saved your asses that time." Gabriel let his head rest against one arm, watching Dean with narrowed eyes.

"Yeah, and what about everything else?" Dean demanded. "You think just one thing is gonna make me change my mind-"

"I just got back from prying open the fucking gates of Heaven and getting his Grace back for him so I do not have the best temper right now, Dean, so shut up before I decide to toss your ungrateful ass back in the fire," Gabriel interrupted, voice flat.

Dean stopped, looking taken aback. He glanced at Sam, who was staring at Gabriel. "You what?"

"Opened Heaven again, and you're welcome, again." Gabriel gave Sam a flat look. "Do you have hearing problems or something?"

Castiel interrupted as he reached for the jar hesitantly, but paused before actually taking it. "You found this when you opened Heaven?"

"Metatron used it to chain the gates shut." Gabriel shrugged. "Guess he thought it would stand up to anyone who tried to undo the spell, but he didn't count on me. Go on, it's yours. Take it."

Castiel stayed where he was for a moment, debating internally if his expression was anything to go by, and then pulled the lid off the jar.

Sam and Dean pushed themselves away from the table at the same time as the white energy practically hurled itself at Castiel, attracted like iron to a magnet and Castiel's chair was pushed back slightly by the force with which it rejoined with him, and Gabriel watched it settle and calm with a half-smile.

Castiel took a deep breath as the glow faded, and his eyes had fallen shut. He already looked much better than he had when Gabriel had arrived.

"Thank you." His voice was quiet, but Gabriel could sense the underlying happiness - plus, Castiel's wings were stretching luxuriously and practically filling the bunker.

"No problem." Gabriel pillowed his head on his arms, because who could be bothered to sit up straight? Not him.

"Are you okay?" Gabriel couldn't see Sam from this position, but the hunter actually sounded a little bit worried. How flattering.

"Nah. I just used up a lot of energy." Gabriel raised one hand as far as it would go and waved it dismissively. "Gotta recharge for a bit."

"You...opened Heaven." The magnitude seemed to be sinking in for the three of them. "On your own?" Dean asked, clearly disbelieving.

"I never said on my own, if you bothered to listen," Gabriel muttered to the table, but they overheard anyway.

_ " Michael?"  _ Castiel said incredulously, head tilted in a way that told Gabriel he was listening to the increasingly agitated chatter echoing in the back of Gabriel’s mind.

_ “ What? _ ” Dean demanded. 

Sam’s attention zeroed in on Gabriel. “Were you involved in this? You were talking about Michael-”

Gabriel groaned. "Don't you pin this on me. I'm too tired to deal with this shit right now."

_ " Pin  _ this on you?" Dean's tone had become accusatory. "What the hell does he - what d'you mean,  _ 'talking about Michael'?"  _ His attention switched to Sam.

"Dean, it's nothing, Gabriel just-"

"Gabriel just what? When were you having this little chat?"

"I summoned him to ask for his help! You were a demon, Dean!"

"Oh, I was a demon! I didn't notice!"

"If no one shuts up in the next twenty seconds," Gabriel said, "I'm putting you both back in Broward County."

_ That  _ shut them up, but the silence that followed was a little too accusatory for Gabriel's liking. Dean broke it soon enough.

"When you say Michael-"

"No." Gabriel cut him off.

"I was just-"

"No."

"You're not-"

Gabriel held up one finger. "I'm going to say it slowly so you can process it this time." He let the word drag itself out of his mouth. "Nnnnnoooooooo."

Dean snorted. "Screw you too."

Gabriel switched to his middle finger.

"Alright, enough." Sam huffed. "Gabriel, just - you can stay until you're good, I guess."

"Your generosity is awe-inspiring." Gabriel informed the spine of the book sitting next to his face.

There was a shuffle and the scrape of chairs on wood that told Gabriel that the two brothers had left, but Castiel was still there - he didn't need to be looking to see that.

"Are you really alright?" Castiel asked, and Gabriel snorted.

"Yeah, Cas. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." Gabriel knew what Castiel was referring to - his wings, however they'd recovered in the small amount of time since the gates had opened, still looked like shit. The burns from Metatron's little present were still there as well.

"Eh, I will be. It's no biggie." Gabriel just mustered up a grin, even though he doubted Castiel could see it with Gabriel's head half-hidden by his arms.

Castiel still didn't leave. "...Thank you."

"You said that already."

"I thought-" Castiel paused. "When you talked to me last time," He began slowly, "And it was just a trick. That... _ was _ really you."

"Yep." Gabriel sighed. "Sorry about that, by the way. I hope you kicked Metatron's ass."

"He is in the dungeons now."

"I heard. Near Gadreel's old spot, Hannah said." Gabriel frowned. "You mentioned Gadreel, too." His implied question hung between them.

"Gadreel broke out when the rest of us fell," Castiel explained after a short pause. "He pretended to be Ezekiel for some time, to try and gain Dean's trust, but when that failed he turned to Metatron."

"'Course he did," Gabriel muttered. "What after that? I haven't heard anything from him."

"I believe Gadreel grew...disillusioned with Metatron's plan." Castiel was visibly hesitant - Gabriel's head was still facing the table, though, so he was mostly guessing based on his brother's tone. "He...turned to me more recently, and, ah...I believe, in the end, he redeemed himself."

That made Gabriel twist so he could look at Castiel properly. _"_ _ Redeemed  _ himself?" It came out more surprised than he had intended.

"In the end." Castiel repeated.

"What the hell did he do?" Gabriel was bewildered. How had Gadreel managed to convince Castiel so thoroughly that he was on the latter's side?

Castiel met Gabriel's gaze evenly. "He died for us."

"...That would do it," Gabriel said once the pause in the conversation had begun to drag on uncomfortably long. He let his head rest back on his arms, staring at the table.

"Gabriel," Castiel began, and then stopped. He was quiet for a while - Gabriel didn't look up - and then spoke again. "Where were you?"

Gabriel decided to try for confusion. "What do you mean?"

"When you - when we  _ thought  _ you died - that was years ago. Where have you been?"

Gabriel sighed, dragging his head up again. "You're asking why I didn't come back and intervene sooner."

"Yes." Castiel admitted.

"I couldn't." Gabriel was honest with him, and what reason did he have to try and keep secrets from Castiel? "For a while I couldn't do much of anything, much less come and help you guys out, and to be honest I wasn't exactly itching to see what might be the matter after I heard about the Leviathan."

Castiel stiffened at the reminder, but kept going. "Then why come here now? How?"

"I solved the problem." Gabriel felt a twinge of regret. "I admit, coming back here wasn't my first move-"

"Why not?" Castiel interrupted him boldly.

Honesty was proving to be the least tempting path open to Gabriel at the moment. "...I don't have a good reason. I had things I was already doing, and-" Gabriel blew out a frustrated breath. "I didn't really think about what was going on here until Metatron got me involved."

Well, that was a lie, but it was better than admitting he'd been avoiding going back because he knew his siblings would look to him for a leader. That much had been true, when he'd spoken to Castiel mentally - he was a runner, and didn't want to be a leader any more than Castiel did.

"I see." Castiel was honest, but Gabriel didn't get the feeling that his brother liked his answer. "What about now?"

"Do I plan on staying?" Gabriel rephrased for him. "I do have other things to do, you know."

"What other things?" Castiel pressed.

"Things," Gabriel said evasively. "Don't worry, I'll keep an ear out for you guys. Dad knows you could use them help."

Castiel didn't deny it. "So you're leaving?"

"Not now, obviously." Gabriel's wings twitched as if in response and he noticed Castiel's eyes dart to them for the briefest moment. "You done interrogating me?"

"I didn't realize-" Castiel looked almost embarrassed.

"I was  _ joking. _ " Gabriel hurried to reassure him. "You - I don't mind being asked questions."

"I shouldn't have pried." The words were almost lost in the scrape of wood on wood as Castiel stood up abruptly. "I think I'd like to talk to Dean - there are...I should see if he's alright."

Gabriel didn't try and stop him leaving the room, but he sort of wished he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this was supposed to be a bit longer, but that's a good ending (and a funny one - Gabriel and the Winchesters is an interesting dynamic to write, especially when Gabriel can't be bothered to give a shit).
> 
> Comment, please! Let me know what you thought (and if you liked the music!)


	56. Marks and Stones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note, guys, please: It ANYONE in any chapter notices that I've fucked up Michael's pronouns, please let me know! Whenever I reread this story I always come across a couple 'he's or 'him's/'his's. If you see one, send me a message or leave a review to let me know!
> 
> Anyway, authory stuff: Back to Hogwarts! At least at the end. I had to get some other stuff out of the way - and I guess you know why one of the tags is 'because SOMEONE had to fix all the disasters in Supernatural', now.
> 
> And of course, who could forget about Adam! There's a lil bit with him, mainly because I really wanted to address the sort of meta of a kid who's DEFINITELY read Harry Potter, in the HP universe. Gotta love it.

Gabriel almost left the next morning, having no desire to hang around with the Winchesters any longer than necessary, especially with Dean still glaring holes into his head over the whole Michael thing.

Like it was  _ his _ fault. He’d had barely anything to do with Michael’s return.

But he also knew that Dean still had the Mark of Cain.

"You're planning to do what, exactly?"

"I'm making it up as I go along," Gabriel said, eyeing the mark distastefully even though it was mostly concealed under one of Dean's many shirts. His Father may have put it there, but Cain had been a Knight for so long that it had been warped and changed.

That was probably the only reason he'd managed to pass it off to Dean in the first place.

"Well, that's  _ incredibly  _ reassuring," Dean snarked, tugging his sleeve down his arm to cover the mark more fully, having no doubt noticed what Gabriel was looking at.

"Like you've got any other options," Gabriel shot back. "What the hell made you want to accept  _ that  _ in the first place?"

"Abaddon," Sam said by way of explanation. "Only the First Blade could kill her, so-"

"Or my blade," Gabriel grumbled. "Morons. Six months ago I left that message, and no one takes advantage of it. See if I ever do anything for you again."

"Aren't you right now?"

"Shut up, Dean." Gabriel almost interrupted the hunter, not caring if the latter was offended. "You're telling me you seriously couldn't do anything else about Abaddon?"

"Nothing that she wouldn't see coming," muttered Sam.

Gabriel sighed. "Let's just get this show on the road before some other horror gets accidentally resurrected." When the Winchesters were involved, he didn't doubt that it might actually happen.

* * *

 

Cain didn't take long to show up.

Probably because he would have known the minute Gabriel got within fifty miles of the place - an archangel at full power was hard to miss.

The light flicked on, and Gabriel didn't bother to grin at Cain from his position lounging in one of the latter's chairs. "Cain. I kinda hoped I wouldn't have to deal with you again."

"It wasn't you the first time, unless you changed my memories." Cain still dressed like it was the nineteenth century, but he only stood warily in the doorway. "What are you doing here?"

"Mostly, about him." Gabriel jerked a thumb over to the sofa, where both Winchesters were sitting. Dean looked sullen, while Sam appeared interested despite himself, wary yet studying Cain with an intense, thoughtful expression.

"You mean the Mark." Cain looked resigned.

"Yes." Gabriel stood up casually, but the lights flickered and the door closed itself with a solid  _ click  _ behind Cain. The taller man didn't turn around.

"Giving your Mark away..." Gabriel began slowly, taking a few steps to circle around the small end table and closer to Cain. "To Dean  _ Winchester,  _ of all people. I don't know why - or  _ how  _ \- and I can't say I'm interested in hearing whatever explanation you can cook up."

"Good." Cain hadn't moved an inch, but his eyes had followed Gabriel's every movement. "I wasn't planning on explaining myself to you."

"Then we're in agreement." Gabriel stopped when he was standing a comfortable distance away and in front of Cain.

"What are you really here for?" Cain could be so mistrustful, but like the Winchesters, he had a good reason.

"The Mark's your punishment, Cain." Gabriel said flatly. "Not Dean Winchester's." Both brothers were watching the exchange intently by now.

"They need it.  _ He _ does." Cain corrected himself, or maybe clarified for Gabriel's benefit.

"Really?" Gabriel arched an eyebrow, pointedly skeptical. "For the First Blade, if I remember correctly."

"For Abaddon."

"Ah yes, your fellow Knight." Cain's face twisted momentarily at being grouped with Abaddon, and Gabriel caught the flash of expression, however brief. "What's the matter, no friendly feelings for your old bandmates?"

"I don't have any love for Abaddon. Or the others." Cain's face had retained some of the tightness that had passed over it when Gabriel first mentioned Abaddon.

"The others?" Gabriel snorted. "Those long-dead bastards? Who cares about them?"

Cain's expression was carefully blank, and Gabriel wondered about the ramifications of the purposeful neutrality.

This was dragging on longer than he'd anticipated. Gabriel huffed out a breath, made a split decision and grabbed Cain's wrist - the one on the arm that used to bear the Mark.

Cain jerked backwards slightly in surprise, but his arm stayed firmly in Gabriel's grip - archangel outranked Knight, however closely in this particular situation.

"Dean," Gabriel said sharply. "Get over here."

"What are you planning to do?" Dean approached warily, Sam close behind him, despite the fact that even if he'd stayed sitting he and Dean would never have been further than five feet apart.

"Just shut up." Gabriel's other, unoccupied hand shot out and grabbed Dean's wrist as well, dragging him forward.

"Hey! What are-" Dean's sentence was interrupted as Gabriel pinned his hand down on the table, trapping Cain's on top of it so that they were curled together in a mockery of a handshake, or at least a tenuous grip.

Cain was watching darkly, but he'd made no further attempts to get away, which only put Gabriel further on edge. Cain had given the Mark away freely - why accept it back just as easily?

Dean shouted out as Gabriel began, Grace creeping up the former's arm, stretching unerringly towards the Mark. Dean tried to clamp his other hand over the Mark, which almost looked to be glowing, but he snatched it away in the next moment like he'd touched a hot stove. Dean gritted his teeth together and instead clamped his free hand on Sam's shoulder, as if to keep himself steady.

Meanwhile, Gabriel continued on with his original goal. He reached towards the Mark with his Grace, almost flinching away when he came into contact with it, but forcing himself to persevere. As his Grace wrapped around it, on Dean's arm it looked like the Mark was being absorbed.

Sweat had broken out on Dean's forehead, his grip on Sam looked painfully tight, and he exhaled sharply as Gabriel  _ yanked,  _ dragging the Mark slowly but surely off his arm and towards where his and Cain's hands were joined.

The demonic energy of the Mark was burning at Gabriel, and he was wincing too as he continued on. Thinking quickly - if he lost his focus, Gabriel would have to do the whole thing over again, and he didn't want to give Cain a chance to do anything - Gabriel pushed harder at it, pushing past the blackness and red smoke of the mark to the center.

It undeniably had his Father's touch to it, but Gabriel didn't dare stop to linger over the faint trace. As he pushed the Mark (now just mixed red and white lines of light moving down Dean's arm) further, it leaked red smoke onto the table which dissipated before it could touch the varnished wood.

In a few moments that seemed to last both decades and only a second or two, the Mark washed up Cain's arm much more easily than it had left Dean's, and reformed. It was perhaps a little paler than it used to be, but Gabriel just let go and stood back, more tired out than he'd expected to be.

The Mark was old, that much he knew, but maybe he'd forgotten just how old.

Cain was rubbing his arm, a resentful look in his eyes, while Sam was hovering over Dean, who had put out a hand to steady himself on the nearest chair.

"What the hell was that?" Dean panted.

"A 'thanks' wouldn't go wrong about now," Gabriel suggested dryly.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked his brother, darting a glance at Gabriel.

"I'll live." Dean straightened, steadying himself surprisingly fast. Gabriel made a valiant attempt to shake off his exhaustion and stood a little straighter.

Turning towards Cain slightly, Gabriel gave him a wary look. "Why'd you bring up the other knights?"

Cain's arm dropped. "You brought up Abaddon." He walked towards the window, moving in front of a small bookshelf on his way there.

"Yeah, and you mentioned the other Knights. Why?" Gabriel still felt like something was off about the situation.

"And why..." Cain reached towards the bookshelf. "Should I explain myself to you?"

What a drama queen. Gabriel turned away, rolling his eyes.

"What're you-" Sam's expression changed in a heartbeat. "Gabriel!"

Gabriel whirled around and was given only a split second to process that Cain was lunging at him, jaw-blade in hand and  _ hadn’t the Winchesters gotten rid of that? _

Gabriel instinctively jumped out of the way, nearly tripping over the coffee table in the process, but the blaze of sudden pain along his side told him he hadn't quite managed to avoid it.

"You sonuva bitch!" With Dean's shout the world abruptly snapped back to regular speed, and Gabriel had no idea that the weird slow-motion thing in movies could happen in real life, but the rest of his mind was too occupied with  _ ow  _ and  _ fuck did I just fall onto the coffee table that's embarrassing  _ to pay much attention to the thought.

His next thought, as he noticed Cain (with a bloody blade) looking furious and standing over him was  _ now would probably be a good time to leave. _

He almost forgot to bring Sam and Dean with him.

Gabriel landed awkwardly sprawled against a wall somewhere in the bunker, and felt a mild spasm of irritation that somehow, in whatever way possible, whatever deity watched over angels seemed determined to give him as little control over his wings as possible. Maybe his Dad was screwing with him.

At least he’d landed in the right place.

"Gabriel?" The yell was faint, and the short conversation that followed even fainter, but Gabriel could make out two distinct voices, shortly joined by a third - Castiel.

"What's going on?"

"What's...that  _ Cain  _ freaked out... _ stabbed  _ Gabriel!"

"Where...?!"

"...don't know."

"Gabriel?"

"Hey, yell if you can hear us!" That was definitely Dean.

"Fuck you!" Gabriel shouted back, one arm clamped over the side of his torso. The blade had caught him right under his vessel's ribcage, and Gabriel only hoped that it wasn't as deep as it felt.

He was probably bleeding all over the floor -  _ and  _ his jacket - but the state of his clothes and the bunker was the last thing Gabriel felt like being worried about.

"Gab-" Sam walked through the doorway and stopped dead. "Holy - Dean!"

"What?" Dean raced through behind Sam, closely followed by a pale Castiel. "Shit!"

"Glad you're so concerned," Gabriel grumbled, shifting slightly and using the nearest bookshelf and his free hand to drag himself further into a sitting position.

"No, I - I don't think you should be moving." Sam held up a hand, the universal stop signal, and wasn't it adorable that he thought he could tell Gabriel what to do. He actually looked fairly worried, which was gratifying.

Gabriel cracked a grin. "Aw, I'm flattered. You guys do care."

"Of course we do." Castiel looked briefly confused.

"You gonna help me out, then, or keep sitting there? I'm kinda bleeding everywhere." Gabriel retorted.

Castiel reached out a hand. "Can you move your arm?"

Well, shit. Bracing himself, Gabriel gritted his teeth and tried not to wince as moving his arm relieved the pressure on the area and set off new sparks of pain over his torso.

Luckily, Castiel was quick. Unluckily, all he could do was stop Gabriel leaking blood all over the place.

"That was quick," Dean said warily as Castiel withdrew his hand.

"It's not that simple," Castiel explained, watching Gabriel with worry etched into the lines of his vessel's face. "The vessel is easily enough repaired, but..."

" _ I'm  _ still hurt, is what he's trying to say," Gabriel filled in, slumping back against the shelf which he now realized was incredibly uncomfortable. "Can't do shit about an angel blade wound."

"That wasn't an angel blade." Sam stated, confusion creeping over his face.

"I am  _ aware,  _ Sasquatch, considering I was just stabbed with the  _ fucking First Blade. _ " Gabriel leveled a glare at the other three. "Any of you want to explain why it's in Cain's hands?"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, both appearing to be at a loss, and then a flash of understanding flashed over Sam's face, followed by disgust. "Crowley," he spat.

"Crowley?" Dean and Gabriel asked at the same time, an odd bit of synchronity that left Gabriel feeling off-kilter. He was never doing that again.

"You gave Crowley the first blade?" Gabriel asked, sitting up again to look at Sam incredulously. "How many bad decisions is it possible to make?"

Sam barely flinched at the criticism. "I was trying to keep it away from Dean."

"So you gave it to a demon," Gabriel said flatly. "A demon who happens to be King of Hell, and who you  _ apparently  _ trust beyond measure."

"I  _ don't  _ trust Crowley, it's just-" Distaste and frustration were prominent on Sam's face. "He was the only option."

"Oh, of course. Absolutely no other options." Gabriel's voice hardened. "Except for maybe me!"

Sam didn't seem to have an answer for that.

Gabriel bent forward in an attempt to get up and then collapsed backwards again, swearing profusely under his breath. Castiel offered him a hand and Gabriel took it, neither of them pointing out that his sleeve was soaked in blood along one side.

If anyone noticed that Gabriel kept a hand on the bookshelf to steady himself - and they had to have done so - no one pointed that out either.

"I can take care of this," Castiel muttered. Dean looked relieved to have an excuse to leave the room. Sam followed, if less exuberantly. Gabriel and Castiel were left alone.

"Ugh." Gabriel made his way over to the nearest chair and eased down into it, trying not to aggravate his side. "Why is it that whenever I help out the Winchesters I end up getting stabbed?"

"Are you alright?" Castiel still looked worried. "Did I-"

"Calm down, Castiel, you did fine." Gabriel pulled up his shirt. "I don't see anything - well, there's still a hole there and blood all over this jacket, but I'm pretty sure you weren't talking about that."

"What about Dean?"

"Your boyfriend's fine too."

"He's not-" 

"Oh, puh-lease, Cas, spare me the denials." Gabriel laughed, and then winced. Bad idea. "You two have been dancing around each other for  _ years." _

"I don't know what you're talking about," Castiel muttered.

"Suuuuure."

"I  _ don't.  _ Neither do I see the point of this,” Castiel said firmly.

“I’m the older brother,” Gabriel said. “I’m pretty sure I’m contractually obligated to make fun of you about this and/or encourage you to sleep with him.”

Castiel flushed a surprisingly bright red. “That is  _ not  _ true.”

“I can make it true.” Gabriel grinned as rakishly as possible at him. 

“Please don’t,” Castiel said. There was a despairing note in his voice, like he already knew Gabriel had made his mind up.

“I’m just saying-”

“I am fine being friends with Dean.”

“But you wouldn’t object to something more?” Gabriel raised his eyebrows pointedly. “Hmmm?”

“Human conceptions of love and romance are entirely different than ours,” Castiel flatly. “I should think that Dean would think of us completely different than I do.”

“I wouldn’t. Shouldn’t. Whatever.” Gabriel tried to settle more comfortably into the chair, and failed to do anything but make his side ache more. “Look, get back to me on that, maybe go exploring in the closet for Dean, whatever. I’m going home.”

* * *

 

"Hey."

"He - oh my God!" Adam jumped in his seat, the book in his hands falling to the floor with a thump. "What happened to you?"

Gabriel glanced down at himself, and winced. While his shirt was black, and therefore the only sign of blood was a suspiciously shiny wet patch, his jacket was not and he'd forgotten to clean either off. 

"Whoops." It was lucky Adam was the only person in the room. Gabriel snapped, cleaning it off in an instant. "Better?" Gabriel spread his arms, ignoring the twinge that shot across his torso at the movement but quickly putting them pack down.

Adam was still staring at him. "Any particular reason you're covered in blood?"

"Past tense, I think."

"Fine.  _ Were?  _ Is there a reason you're such a stickler for grammar now?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Three kids in the house still learning English, you learn to pick up on the little things."

"Are you going to actually answer my question?"

"Yes, there is a reason, but I don't feel like sharing."

Adam huffed, but only bent down to pick up his book again. "Where were you?"

"With your bros." Gabriel settled himself onto the sofa, perching with his feet tucked under himself. "I have no idea how they manage to get involved in so much shit, but they do."

"Yeah." Adam looked down at his book, but more as if to avoid looking at Gabriel than any intent to actually read it. "I'm aware."

Of course he was aware. If Gabriel remembered correctly, the kid had been dragged out of Heaven and back into this whole mess just because Dean wouldn't cooperate.

Whatever answer he was about to muster was lost when a phoenix appeared on the table. Gabriel stopped and stared, and Adam dropped his book again. 

"Holy shit," Adam whispered almost reverently. "Is that a phoenix?"

"Yep. What's it..." Gabriel trailed off as he noticed the letter in the bird's beak. "Oh. Hey, Dumbledore has a phoenix, right?" He distinctly remembered another letter being delivered in a similar manner the previous year.

"Yeah, Fawkes." Adam had sat up straighter and was watching the phoenix in astonishment. "Do you normally get letters like this?"

"From Dumbledore? Yeah, but not often." Gabriel peeled the seal off the parchment - and really, it was weird that he'd actually gotten used to doing so in the last few years - and unfolded the letter.

"What's it say?"

"Nosy much?” Gabriel scanned the letter.  It wasn’t very long. “He wants to talk." Which was weird, because Dumbledore didn't seem like the type to send a letter just to have a chat. What was so important that this had to happen now?

"He sent you a letter just to say that?" Adam seemed to share Gabriel's mindset.

"It says 'asap', in not so many words." Gabriel folded the parchment back up almost absentmindedly. "Wonder what's so important?"

"Why don't you go see?"

"Well, I could, but that would give the impression that I have nothing better to do than answer a wizard's summons."

Adam actually rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that's the last thing he's going to think - if anyone would understand that you can't control an archangel, it would be Dumbledore. Besides, if he put that you should come soon, it's probably important."

"How important could it be?"

"It could have to do with Voldemort." Adam suddenly looked shifty. "Um - you are dealing with him, righ-"

"Yes, Adam, you haven't 'spoiled' anything for me." Gabriel's tone made physical airquotes unnecessary. He stood up, wincing momentarily and nearly putting his hand to his side. "In any case, if he's sending it with the superfast bird then it probably is something important."

"Who was saying all that about not going a minute ago?" Adam said, looking bewildered.

"I said I could, and if I don't go and see what's up I might end up missing some giant, necessary bit of information that Dumbledore hasn't seen fit to share with the rest of his Order." Gabriel snorted. "I'm sure he's got plenty of secrets hanging around."

"Couldn't you just..." Adam made a vague gesture. "Read his mind? Angels do that, right?"

"You may have met my ruder siblings," Gabriel said dryly, "But I prefer not to invade people's personal space without permission."

Adam looked away, but he didn't apologize.

"I'll be back later, I suppose," Gabriel said, spinning on one heel and nimbly - at least, for someone who not an hour ago had been bleeding from a chest wound - avoiding crashing into the corner of the sofa. "See ya."

He took off before his other foot hit the ground.

Dumbledore was in his office, as Gabriel had expected, and the moment or so after Gabriel arrived in a flutter of wings Fawkes appeared on their perch in a burst of fire.

Dumbledore jumped at neither sudden occurrence. "So you did get my letter," he said genially. "I was hoping you would, though most people would knock."

"Knocking's for losers," Gabriel replied. "And you're an exception. I don't usually come when 'summoned'." This time Gabriel did use air quotes, to get the point across.

"Of course, and I'm glad you did." Dumbledore leaned forward, one hand nudging something on his desk forward. "I have something I thought might interest you."

Curious, Gabriel stepped forward to get a better view of the thing on the desk, and let out a whistle.

"Well, then." He hadn't expected Dumbledore to ask him to come over just to hand over the third Death artifact, but Gabriel wasn't about to turn it away. The stone was bleeding Death's magic all over the place, attached to a simple gold band that Gabriel was pretty sure was not a part of the actual artifact, since none of Death's artifacts would have allowed one of Voldemort's soul...things to attach itself to them.

Glancing up at Dumbledore, Gabriel opened his mouth to speak when he noticed the headmaster's blackened right hand. "Whoa. Where'd that come from?"

Dumbledore saw where his eyes had gone and smiled, shaking the sleeve of his robe further over his hand. "Merely an unfortunate accident."

"That's one hell of an accident. Magical, right?" Gabriel guessed.

"Indeed." Dumbledore's smile became rather grim. "This ring had...quite the curse on it, and I did not realize until too late."

"Interesting." Gabriel picked the ring up, plucking the dark stone from the band easily in front of Dumbledore's astonished eyes and forgoing it in favor of examining the band itself.

"What are you-"

"Huh," Gabriel mused to himself, ignoring Dumbledore. There was a familiar scrap of soul hanging on to the gold. "He must have tried to attach this to the ring itself, but obviously it didn't take to the stone...I assume you know what this is."

"Yes. The Resurrection Stone." Dumbledore replied quietly.

"The Res-" Gabriel's eyes darted to the stone sitting innocuously on the desk, and then to Dumbledore's mostly covered and blackened hand. "Oh. You put the ring on, didn't you?"

Dumbledore's smile was full of emotion - and not good ones. "I am only human," he said by way of answer. May I ask how you know about-"

"The bit of Voldemort in this ring band?" Gabriel held up the aforementioned bit of jewelry. "Run into something like it a couple times before. If you know about it, though, why haven't you told your Order?" Gabriel had no idea his random guess would be so spot on.

"I could not risk Voldemort learning that I had discovered his Horcruxes."

"His what now? That's seriously what they're called?" Gabriel peered at the band.

"Yes." Dumbledore had gone grave. How many emotions could a human feel in one short talk? "It is a portion of a human soul placed in an independent container-"

"Well, that's a load of bullshit."

"Excuse me?" Dumbledore had probably never heard someone swear like that in front of him, much less an angel, but Gabriel didn't really care.

"A portion of a soul?" Gabriel scoffed. "You can't just rip up a soul and put the pieces in little boxes or whatever the hell you want. You can't rip up a soul, period. They can be tortured, bent, mutilated even - but never  _ broken.  _ I don't know who came up with  _ that  _ idea, but they obviously had no idea what they were doing."

"They must have had some semblance of an idea, otherwise that would not be here and the inventor of the ritual would never have succeeded in creating it." Dumbledore indicated the tarnished gold band. "Voldemort has used these before. I believe they may have allowed him to escape death after he failed - after the incident at the Potters'."

Gabriel hummed in thought. "Well, this is obviously  _ something _ . I did wonder, how a wizard managed to do something that should be impossible, but it must be more complicated than that."

"You seem very sure."

Gabriel gave Dumbledore a flat look. "You may be magic," he said dryly, "But you're only human. There are laws in this universe even I can't break, and souls are one of them."

"Then what do you think it is?" Dumbledore propped his hands up, moving the injured one gingerly, and actually looked interested in whatever answer Gabriel had. The answer was a shrug. 

"Hell if I know," Gabriel replied. "I have been around a while, but you've actually been in this wizarding world longer than me. I don't know that much about your magic. Why do you think I agreed to come to this school in the first place?"

"...I see. Pardon an old man for asking," Dumbledore questioned, "But how many of these have you encountered?"

"A few." Gabriel thought. "That diary. The snake that tried to kill the Weasley dude. And this ring, of course."

"I see."

"You think he made more?"

"I think it's very likely." Dumbledore say back in his chair, and Gabriel absentmindedly flipped the gold band in his hand.

"Do you know where?"

"Unfortunately, no." Dumbledore watched in fascination as Gabriel caught the gold band and squeezed his hand into a fist. There was a puff, a faint scream, and a sprinkle of gold dust that rained down on the carpet when Gabriel opened his hand again. "But I have been looking."

"Sure you don't need help with your hand?" Gabriel asked casually.

"Help?" Dumbledore seemed startled by the offer.

"Yeah. I mean, that seems like a pretty stubborn kind of magic-" Gabriel indicated the blackened hand. "And I may not be the best at it compared to some, but I can still do.." he reached over the table and laid two fingers on the hand, the blackness receding almost immediately. "...This."

Dumbledore examined his now perfectly fine hand in a mixture of fascination and almost shock. "How convenient," was all he said, in a faint voice.

Gabriel shrugged again. "Comes with the position," He said, and turned to go, then paused when Dumbledore called out.

"Wait-"

_ " Yes?" _

"There is one more question I wanted to ask you - something I wanted to make sure of before term started." Dumbledore seemed to have sobered.

Gabriel spread his arms, once more ignoring the twinge in his side. "Ask away."

"Regarding what happened at the end of last year, in the Ministry. Where some Death Eaters apparently addressed you as Loki, who caused the mischief here last year, and you answered in the affirmative." Dumbledore folded his hands on his desk, peering over his spectacles at Gabriel. "Or so those who saw it tell me."

Gabriel almost lied.

Almost.

He grinned, half apologetically and half smirking. "You'd probably like to hear me say that I lied to play for time, wouldn't you?"

Dumbledore seemed to simultaneously slump in his chair and grow stiffer and more imposing. "I had hoped that they heard wrong," He said frostily. "Are you Loki, then, or are you Gabriel?"

"Both." Gabriel kept grinning. "Why not? I was Gabriel first, and then I decided to be Loki."

"So Loki is your disguise."

"More or less."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "Then the Trickster that I spoke to last year-"

"Was me." Gabriel didn’t see much point in denying it, now that Dumbledore seemed to be at the point of making the connection.

Dumbledore's expression grew frosty. "You killed Professor Umbridge."

"Not much of a Professor, really, was she?" Gabriel leaned against the door behind him. "Yes."

"Why?"

_ "Why?"  _ Gabriel asked incredulously, overdoing it to see if he could make Dumbledore feel guilty. "Do you pay any attention to what goes on in this school at all? When students started coming back from detentions with her with the lines they wrote carved into their fucking hands, I decided it was time to intervene."

"But  _ murder-" _

Gabriel groaned, sagging against the door. "Oh, spare me the morality talk. In case you didn't notice, you've got no grounds to stand on while you lecture me, Mr. Keeping-Secrets-From-The-Orginization-I-Founded."

"It was necessary-"

"So was Umbridge's death. How else was she going to leave Hogwarts?" Gabriel snapped his fingers, and several of the portraits jumped - they had been watching the conversation avidly, forgetting to pretend to be asleep as they had been when Gabriel entered - but Dumbledore did not move. "You didn't do anything about it, so I did. Besides, Snape's alright, isn't he?"

"Was that 'necessary' as well?" Dumbledore inquired coldly.

"I was on a roll." If Dumbledore wanted the truth, he'd get it - sometimes it hit harder than any lie could.

Dumbledore was quiet for several minutes. "May I ask," He said eventually, "Why an archangel would lower themselves to the status of a pagan god? Surely that is lower than your original position."

"It was...convenient." Gabriel hesitated before answering.

"I see."

Gabriel almost smiled at Dumbledore's naiveté. "No, you don't, but go ahead and pretend."

Gabriel stepped closer to the desk and picked up the Resurrection Stone, and something must have shown in his expression because Dumbledore looked almost surprised.

"Never bothered to read that story," Gabriel muttered to himself, and Dumbledore surprised him by answering.

"The tale says that if you turn the stone thrice in your hand, and think of someone who has passed on, they will appear before you."

Gabriel stared at the stone, and then wrenched his attention away and stared pointedly at the window, hoping that Dumbledore hadn't noticed the longing on his face and knowing that the man had.

Besides, the stone probably couldn't reach Valhalla anyway.

"Well, then." Gabriel waved over his shoulder and yes, he was purposely half-mocking Dumbledore now, but it was the man's own fault for bringing Loki up and therefore out. "I'll see you in September."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist a tiny bit of angst...
> 
> Comment, please!


	57. Wizards, Witches, and Warnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that is a Good Omens reference at the beginning. Sue me.
> 
> To those who will inevitably complain about the train scene: what about Hermione doesn't scream enthusiastic feminist?
> 
> Some of you might recognize the name Angrboða (or maybe not, because I'm not sure if I included it or not, or recently enough for it to be memorable) but just in case you don't, she's the mother of the three youngest - Jormungand, Fenris, and Hel.
> 
> Anyway, we're getting somewhere, at last! With the Harry Potter side of things, anyway. We're finally getting around to the beginning of sixth year! I kind of dragged this summer on compared to all the others, didn't I? *Sings AVPM aggressively* BACK TO WITCHES AND WIZARDS AND MAGICAL BEASTS, GOBLINS AND GHOSTS AND MAGICAL FEASTS, IT'S ALL THAT I LOVE AND IT'S ALL THAT I NEED AT HOGWARTS, HOGWARTS, I THINK WE'RE GOING BACK!

Gabriel was in a park.

He hadn't really meant to be in the park, or any park at all - he'd just sort of landed anywhere and was now sitting on a bench, the resurrection stone in one fist and staring at the duck pond without really seeing it.

And kind of wishing he'd bothered to read the story that supposedly explained all of these artifacts and why Death had given them away in the first place.

The stone was a lot heavier than it had any right to be, and Gabriel had to resist the urge to move it around in his fist in case he accidentally 'turned it thrice' or whatever the hell one was supposed to do with it. He was definitely thinking of someone, and it wouldn't do to have her show up in the middle of the park. Or anywhere.

Well, less 'it wouldn't do' and more the fact that Gabriel wasn't sure whether or not he actually wanted to - that, and Angrboða didn't deserve to be pulled out of Valhalla just because Gabriel could.

In any case, she'd been dead too long.

"Tempting, isn't it?" Gabriel jumped only slightly as Death sat down next to him, the latter looking at the same invisible distant thing. "Even for angels. There aren't many who don't have the urge to use it."

"I suppose you'd know who those people are," Gabriel muttered, resting his head on the fist with the stone in it and watching a MI6 agent discreetly feeding the ducks and trying not to look too much like a secret agent.

"Some of them." Death said mildly. "Your vessel, for one."

Gabriel shot him a startled look. "What - Harry Potter?"

Death smiled, more a simple - and brief - movement of his lips than anything with any real emotion behind it. "Your interference was the most unplanned accident I've seen in awhile. Why do you think I took so much interest?"

"I hadn't seen you around."

"Well, with your power that low, I'm not surprised."

Gabriel wasn't as creeped out as he felt like he should be by the idea that Death had been watching him. "So what?" He asked. "I wasn't supposed to posses the kid? Because that wasn't my choice."

Death hmmed. "More like he wasn't intended to die at all, but...something changed."

"Something." Gabriel said flatly.

"Yes. And then Someone intervened and brought you into the mix, to make sure certain things happened." Death's eyes gleamed momentarily as he turned to look at Gabriel. "If not the boy himself, then whoever was watching must have decided that someone possessing him would do."

"And they chose me."

"Oh, that I very much doubt. You were, most likely, simply the most convenient person to steer out of their way who would unwittingly be ensnared in Lily Potter's little enchantment."

Gabriel scowled at the idea of him being 'unwitting' or ensnared in anything, despite knowing the truth in Death's words. "You sound confident."

"I know some. I guessed other parts." Death shrugged. "And my guesses are fairly accurate. But I don't need to guess that you have something for me."

He held out a hand, somehow imperious without changing his body language in a single way. Gabriel dropped the stone into Death's palm.

"That's that, then." Gabriel said. "You've got all three of them back."

"Indeed. And I thank you for that."

"Why not do it yourself?" Gabriel asked. "You could."

"Could I have?" Death asked knowingly. "I gave them away freely, to those three men. There are some rules even I can't break - or at least, it would be too much trouble to, so it was much easier to just ask you."

Gabriel would have rolled his eyes if he was talking to anyone other than Death. "So that's it? No more of me looking for these long-lost stones and cloaks of yours?"

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were sorry we wouldn't talk anymore."

Death was a dangerous being to get attached to, but Gabriel was an angel, and angels didn't change that quickly. "Nah. I'll miss some actual intelligent conversation."

"No one at that school of yours to talk to?" Death sounded partly sarcastic and partly like he thought Gabriel must have overlooked someone.

Well, Michael was technically there, but Gabriel wasn't exactly going to go out of his way to talk to nem.

"Not about this kinda stuff," He replied after a moment. "They're only human. And most of them like magic more than they do angels and demons. Makes more sense to them, I guess."

"It would." Death said with a certain finality - and he would know, Gabriel guessed, since there wasn't really a way to tell how much older than him Death was. "Humans nowadays get so uncomfortable when confronted with their own insignificance."

"Not all of them."

"No, some just get defensive." Gabriel had no doubt that Death was thinking of Dean Winchester. 'Defensive' was practically his middle name, at least in some cases.

"You know about Cain, don't you?" Something was still nagging at Gabriel.

"Of him? Indeed. It's difficult not to." Death glanced at Gabriel, a little too low to meet his eyes. "I assume he's responsible for that nasty wound?"

Gabriel shifted. "It's not that bad."

"Whatever you say." Death didn't seem to believe him, not that Gabriel expected the Horseman to. Death was one of those few who could see right through Gabriel if they wanted to. "Why the abrupt change of topic?"

Gabriel hummed again thoughtfully. "He said something - I managed to get roped into helping Dean with that Mark, which is why I was talking to Cain in the first place. But...he mentioned Abaddon, and then the other two."

There had been more than just four Knights of Hell, but the other three were even longer dead, so Gabriel didn't include them in his count.

"Oh?" Death sounded not at all surprised, but then again he never really did. "How interesting."  _ That  _ attracted Gabriel's attention, because Death didn't find anything interesting, even when he made it sound like he was just making conversation. Nothing as old as Death was that interested in ‘making conversation’.

"Something's up, isn't it?" Gabriel accused, sitting up straight. "And you know."

"I've no idea what you're talking about," Death said, standing so that he towered over Gabriel and  _ damn  _ this short vessel. "I will warn you, though...don't let down your guard simply because it seems like all your problems are gone."

Then he was gone.

Gabriel huffed and sat back on the bench. "What a drama queen." Still, Gabriel now watched his surroundings with an extra measure of wariness.

What had Death been warning him about?

* * *

 

The first thing Gabriel did when he got onto platform nine and three-quarters was to track down Hermione.

She wasn't difficult to find, since he was an angel and her soul wasn't exactly  _ common -  _ but surprisingly enough, when he did find her she was in the company of Fleur Delacour.

"Harry!" Hermione wrapped Gabriel in a hug once she noticed him, then stepped back with a grin. She was wearing a patterned bandana in her hair which did a much more admirable job of keeping it out of her face than her usual method, which Gabriel had observed to be 'continually shoving her hair out of the way and getting progressively more frustrated'.

"Hey, Hermione." Gabriel nodded at Fleur. "Guess you didn't come back from France alone."

Hermione blushed, but Fleur smiled at the joke. 

"I am in England for my job," Fleur explained in much less accented English than Gabriel remembered. "Bill - you remember him, the eldest Weasley? He offered to get me a job at your bank."

"Gringotts?" Gabriel shrugged. "Sounds interesting, but I can't say working at a bank would thrill me."

Fleur only grinned even wider. "It is an opportunity to be in England, is it not?"

Before Gabriel could reply to this fairly confusing statement, a whistle blew somewhere, accompanied with a burst of steam from the scarlet engine.

"Oh - we have to go!" Hermione ducked down to grab one end of her trunk, popping up with her hair askew.

"I'll find a compartment," Gabriel volunteered. "You've got prefect stuff, right?"

"Yes - see if you can get one near the prefect's, alright? I don't want to have to cross carriages." Hermione suddenly frowned. "What about Michael?"

Gabriel waved a hand dismissively. "Ne will be able to track us down."

Hermione seemed to take this in stride and turned to Fleur, hugging her quickly. "'Bye!" Fleur seemed to find this unsatisfactory, since she pulled away and then bent down to kiss Hermione.

Gabriel's eyebrows shot up, and he half-turned away to give them as much privacy as could really be found on a platform this crowded. When they broke apart, Hermione looked flushed and slightly embarrassed. 

"I'll write," she promised as she grabbed Gabriel's arm and set off towards the train.

"You know," Gabriel said as they stepped into the nearest train car, "I think I underestimated you."

"Oh shut up," Hermione hissed, still flushed and suddenly looking uncomfortable. "You're not, um..."

"What?"

"Going to say anything?" Hermione fiddled with a curly strand of hair. "I mean, since, you know...we're both girls."

Gabriel shook his head, grinning at her reassuringly. "Hermione, if I said anything about that, I'd be a giant hypocrite."

"You're gay?" Hermione looked deathly curious, and then abashed. "Or, er, whatever you identify as."

Gabriel shrugged. "I could go for anyone, really. Humans aren’t that different when you’re not one, discounting personality. Depends if they're attractive. Don't worry, though, your girlfriend's safe from me."

"I think she'd be safe anyway." Hermione was smiling again. "Veela apparently take relationships very seriously, even if they're not  _ full _ veela."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Hermione had to rush off to the prefect's carriage after that, so Gabriel went and found somewhere to sit.

Predictably - since ne was  _ not  _ a prefect and therefore not duty-bound - Michael got there first.

Ne entered the compartment, stopped, looked carefully at Gabriel, then sighed and yanked the door shut.

"Why is it," ne said without preamble, "That whenever we see each other you've managed to injure yourself -  _ again _ \- in some way?"

"Hello to you too," Gabriel muttered from behind the first book he'd yanked out of his trunk.

"What have you been doing?" Michael pulled the book out of Gabriel's hands.

"Hey-"

"This is not something you can just leave and hope it will get better," Michael said evenly, to Gabriel's disappointment - if Michael had gotten angry he could have at least yelled back.

"I haven't," he retorted, and he was telling the truth - Gabriel had been trying to heal it periodically, having been utterly fed up with the constant sore spot that sparked into pain every time he tried to move, but it hadn't worked.

Michael pressed nir lips together, looking like ne was trying to judge whether or not Gabriel was lying, and then dropped the book on the empty seat next to Gabriel. "Let me help."

"Piss off, I can help myself."

"What even did this?" Michael challenged. "'Cause it wasn't an angel blade. That's a dark stain, Gabriel, and you can't get rid of it on your own."

Gabriel had been hoping that the fact that it was the First Blade that made the wound wouldn't have too much of an impact, but apparently that was too much to wish for. He hadn't noticed anything off about the injury - except for the fact that it was fucking annoying - but he couldn't see it that well.

"Might've been the first blade."

Michael stared.

"You know what," ne said, "If I wasn't kind of pissed off right now I would be kind of impressed that you manage to get into so much trouble."

Then ne slapped nir hand onto Gabriel's side.

Gabriel jumped and would have pushed Michael away, if his attention hadn’t been suddenly focused on staying upright. Michael might have been able to heal, but ne wasn’t _good_ at it. Nir touch _burned._

When ne pulled away Gabriel realized he was bent forward, and had crunched part of the window frame where he'd grabbed onto it. Yanking his had away (and repairing it in the same move because he wasn't an asshole  _ unlike some people _ ) Gabriel snatched his book back up and very determinedly did not hide behind it and stew at Michael.

He heard Michael sigh, and then the elder archangel took a seat opposite Gabriel and didn't say anything.

* * *

 

When the door slid open again a few minutes later, both of them looked up to see Luna standing in the doorway and staring at Michael.

"You've changed," She said, sounding surprised.

Michael looked almost equally startled, and then understanding washed over nir features. "Of course," ne said, "I forgot that you'd notice."

"Forgot?" Gabriel asked dryly.

"Well it didn't exactly apply to me before."

Luna's eyes darted between them. "If you're both..." She gestured between them. "Are you related?"

Gabriel sank behind his book again.

"Yes," Michael answered after a moment's pause.

"Oh." Luna's interest overrode her surprise, and she plopped down next to Gabriel without any hesitation. "Did you know?"

"No." Gabriel answered shortly. A part of him wondered how he would have reacted if he'd realized who Michael was right at the start of things, but he refused to continue along that trail of thought for long.

He paid only the barest attention to the conversation going on next to him, mostly because it was hard not to.

"So you're an angel too?"

"Yeah, I just didn't realize until over this summer. I was human before, though."

"Like a fallen angel."

"...Exactly."

"Are you as powerful as Harry?"

A laugh. "More so, actually."

Luna seemed taken aback, when Gabriel glanced over momentarily. "Really?" She asked, fascinated.

"Well, I am older."

Luna only nodded at that. "Mhm. Your wings are bigger, I suppose."

"Whose wings?" Hermione chose that moment to open the door.

"Hello, Hermione." Luna beamed. "I was talking about Michael, actually."

Hermione seemed nonplussed for a moment before she appeared to remember the events of the summer that had just ended. "Mich - oh, right." She eyed the seat next to Michael. "You don't need extra space, do you?"

Michael shook nir head, even as Luna looked down at the space in between her and Gabriel and scooted over to make room. "No, it doesn't really work like that."

"How does it work, then?" Hermione looked fascinated.

"To put it simply?" Michael looked like ne was searching for the right word. "They just...exist separately from the vessel."

"That sounds like you're oversimplifying it."

"I am. It's difficult to explain."

"Difficult because you're trying to make it simpler for me?" Hermione gave Michael a look that promised nothing good if ne said yes.

Michael got the gist of it right away, grinning at Hermione as she finally took a seat next to nem. "Difficult because I've never had to explain it before."

"You could say that humans just can't comprehend them," Gabriel put in from behind his book.

"Oh, put the book down, Gabriel, you're not even going to say hello to Hermione?"

"We talked on the platform," Hermione informed nem.

"That's a nice bandana," Luna said from nowhere, when it became apparent that Michael wasn't going to say anything. "Where'd you get it?"

"Oh - Fleur gave it to me." Hermione reached up and adjusted the bandana absentmindedly, pulling the knot to the side of her head.

"Fleur?" Michael said. "Wasn't she one of the champions?"

"She was, from Beauxbatons, remember?" Hermione reminded nir. "I ran into her in France."

"Funny coincidence."

"I think it was near where her school was, actually. Apparently her parents are involved a lot in running it, which is part of the reason she went there."

"You must have talked a lot, if you got around to that topic." Luna mused.

Hermione must have blushed, because then Michael said "What? Is there something you're not telling us?"

“They might’ve talked in between the _ki-ssing_ ,” Gabriel said, sing-songy, from behind his book.

_ “ Gabriel, _ ” Hermione hissed. 

“Huh,” Luna said thoughtfully. “That’s nice. She’s pretty. Didn’t you date Krum, though?” 

"It's possible to like both," Hermione replied defensively. "I'm bisexual."

"Oh - I didn't mean to be rude." Luna went quiet. "I've just never heard the term before."

"Not many people have." Gabriel could sense a rant building up. "Because everyone seems to be convinced that the default sexuality is  _ straight,  _ and then they concentrate so much on gay people that the other minority sexualities are either ignored or ridiculed even by  _ other  _ non-heterosexual people-"

"Hermione." Michael said, interrupting. "I don't mean to be rude, but no one here's maligning your sexuality."

"...Sorry."

"You don't need to apologize, just..." The edge of a grin entered Michael's voice. "Save that for someone who actually needs reminding, alright?"

"Sure."

“How did you meet?” Luna asked brightly. “I’m sure it was lovely.”

“We ran into each other in magical France.” Hermione shuffled around a little. “She recognized me from the Tournament, and of course I recognized her, and, well...”

* * *

 

Barely half an hour into their trip, Hermione lost her patience and grabbed Gabriel's book.

"I was-"

"You haven't turned a page for the last ten minutes, now quit pretending," Hermione said exasperatedly. "We're not  _ that _ boring, are we?"

"That's not-"

"Good, then." Hermione turned to Michael. "You've still got your Exploding Snap set, don't you?"

Michael looked surprised (and a little hesitant) but obligingly produced a set.

"It's sort of a tradition," Hermione explained to Luna as she crowded Michael over to reach the built-in table by the window. "We always end up playing Exploding Snap on the train. No, this isn't working, can we use someone's trunk as a table?"

Luna volunteered and her trunk was hauled down, then rejected because of its color. ("No, it's not that, it's just I wouldn't want you to end up with a trunk covered in scorch marks.") and Gabriel's black trunk was decided on as a substitute, and then the game finally got underway.

* * *

 

It was some time later and more explosions than were strictly normal for a game that depended on them for certain cues before the conclusion was drawn that the magic on Michael's old set had probably gone a bit wonky after so many years.

Luna had hauled out a battered-looking notebook and started scribbling away in it, which left Michael, Hermione, and Gabriel to talk amongst themselves.

Which would have been fine, except Michael was  _ Michael. _

"Soo." Hermione said, in an effort to start conversation. "Did you have a good summer?"

"Good enough." Michael shrugged. “We made some progress back home.”

“Oh! With Heaven? Gabriel, er, mentioned that.” Hermione’s eyes darted between them. “That’s good, then!”

“Yeah, but there’s a lot left to do.” Michael grimaced faintly. “And not a lot of angels who are willing to work with me.”

“Why-”

“What follow up?” Gabriel frowned at Michael. They’d opened the gates and set things to rights. Hadn’t that been enough?

Michael gave him an exasperated look. “Doing one good thing doesn’t mean everything is fine now. Or that whatever happens next isn’t any of our business.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Gabriel muttered. 

Hermione frowned at him. "Aren't you two  _ related  _ now?"

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Hermione, who had asked, was frowning again. "Just wondering."

"Just wondering out of nowhere? I thought you heard all of this from the Order."

"That's not what I meant." By now Luna had looked up from her writing, curious at Hermione's vehement reply. Hermione sighed. "I just mean - you’ve barely spoken a word to each other since you got on the train."

"Not true. Just because you weren't here doesn't mean it didn't happen."

"We've been on the train for three hours, and I've been here for two of them!" Hermione shot back.

"Hermione-" Michael began.

" _ You  _ haven't said much either," Hermione interrupted, rounding on nir. "What is up with you two?"

"Well," Gabriel said, not giving Michael a chance, "For starters, I found out Michael was my  _ sibling  _ Michael. That kind of changed things."

"So?" Hermione demanded. "Wouldn't that make you get along better?"

Gabriel didn't have to look to know Michael looked just as skeptical as he did.

Hermione faltered, the looks obviously getting the point across. "What about that other one?" She asked. "I've seen you get along with  _ him.  _ He lives at your house!"

"That's because Balthazar is a cheapskate and can't be bothered to leave." Gabriel replied dryly.

Michael looked like ne wished the subject hadn't been broached. "It's more complicated than-"

"More complicated?" Hermione interrupted again, sounding incredulous. "How complicated can it be?"

"When both of the people involved have been around since before your species was so much as an idea in our Dad's head?" Gabriel snapped. " _ Very." _

"I don't think that gives you an excuse," Hermione retorted.

"An excuse?" Gabriel said incredulously. "No one's-"

"Yes, you are making excuses!" Hermione practically shouted. By now Luna had put down her book, and Gabriel didn't blame her for looking fascinated (but he was a little annoyed). "So you're both incredibly old, that doesn't mean you get to ignore each other and just tell me that I won't get whatever reason you have!"

"It's not that you wouldn't get it-" Michael tried to explain, speaking before Gabriel could.

"Then why?" Hermione asked, hair flying out as she spun around.

Michael hesitated. “It’s not - there’s a lot of history behind it that’s necessary to explain everything that’s happening-”

"Necessary to explain it?" Hermione repeated incredulously. "Michael, I'm not asking for your history! I'm just asking why you and Harry - why you and  _ Gabriel  _ have been ignoring each other for two hours! It's not exactly a complicated request! I'm just trying to figure out what happened to my friends!"

Silence.

"Nothing's happened to us," Michael said quietly. Gabriel snorted. “We’re still your friends.”

"Maybe we should stop shouting," Luna suggested quietly, "And this will be a lot easier to solve."

Hermione took a deep breath and sagged back in the seat, squinting against the sun which was flashing through the trees. "Fine."

"First off," Luna said serenely, "I think you're all overreacting."

Hermione looked like she was getting prepared to be offended, but Luna kept talking. "And also, you and Michael are both being kind of unreasonable."

"Excuse me?" Now Michael looked offended too, but Luna looked completely calm for someone who had just told the third oldest being in the universe that they were being unreasonable.

"Well-" Luna shrugged. "You're being a little stubborn. I mean, if you and Gabriel don't like each other, you could just say so."

"I don't dislike him."

"Speak for yourself," Gabriel muttered, making both Michael and Hermione shoot him exasperated and surprised looks, respectively. Luna, as ever, remained completely calm.

"All I'm saying," Luna continued, "Is that maybe you should compromise."

There was another pause, and then Hermione drew in a breath.

"I know you said you don't really get along with your siblings," She said, addressing Gabriel. "I guess...I sort of hoped you didn't mean Michael too."

Gabriel smiled tightly, more just pressing his lips together than actually grinning, and injected as much sarcasm in his voice as he could muster. "Sorry to disappoint."

Michael glanced away from Hermione and didn't reply.

“I still want to know what happened,” Hermione said tightly.

“Why?” Michael demanded, loud enough to make Gabriel stiffen. “So you can know in-depth how many angels have died because none of them know what they’re doing? Would you like to know who specifically is  _ encouraging  _ the fracturing of our family?”

“You know what?” Gabriel stood up. “I have a sudden desire for snacks. Don’t wait up.” He strode out of the compartment, and closed the door behind him harder than was strictly necessary.

* * *

 

Gabriel rejoined his friends and Michael reluctantly on the station platform. The long shadows of night that were cast by the magical lanterns let him sidle back up to the group without being too obvious.

Michael ignored him, Hermione gave him a conflicted look, and Luna looped her arm through his so that she could walk while continuing to read her magazine. 

Gabriel could work with that. 

Hermione jumped when they first approached the carriages. Gabriel looked around quickly for what might have caused it before he realized that she was staring at the thestrals.

She swallowed nervously. "Those aren't...?"

Gabriel put a hand on her shoulder, because humans found touch comforting and he wasn't sure what else to do. Apologize? 'Sorry I killed two death eaters in front of you at the end of last year?' "Yeah."

Michael was looking, too, but said nothing and simply climbed into the carriage. Hermione, after a moment, followed.

Gabriel sat next to Luna again in the carriage and was immediately pulled into a conversation that involved a creature with a really strange name that sounded vaguely like a rusalka, but Luna was talking excitedly and it was easier to just listen than to try and interrupt to correct her.

In that manner the ride up to the castle went quickly, even if there was an ominous air about things. Gabriel reminded himself that, for the magical world, it was the first year they'd really dealt with the impact of Voldemort's revival. Bridges breaking, murders, trolls - even if he'd heard about them only after Hermione informed the rest of them, other magical families had no doubt been hearing about the consequences of the magical war all summer.

Hogwarts was the same as ever, which was pretty much exactly what Gabriel had expected. Two months or so wasn't a huge amount of time, especially since the castle had stood for centuries without much change.

The crowd of students was somehow more annoying than Gabriel had remembered, even though it was also more quiet than he thought it would be. No doubt some students were more subdued with the threat of a supposedly dead but newly returned Dark Lord looming over them. Gabriel contented himself with the thought that it was only two more years at most until he'd be able to ditch the magical world permanently.

Gabriel and Michael ended up next to each other at the Ravenclaw table again, because the last thing Gabriel needed was for people to gossip about him even more. That alone might not have been enough, but there was an informal rule at the Ravenclaw table where if you sat somewhere for long enough, that was Your Seat.

This was pretty strictly enforced, and so Gabriel and Michael took their usual seats. Next to each other.

"At least no one's looking at you like you're crazy this year," Michael muttered. Gabriel tried not to agree with nem and failed.

The first years looked tiny, but then again they always did, and Gabriel dutifully clapped whenever Ravenclaw gained a new student. His mind was miles away with what both Death and Cain had said.

Something was coming.

Something old.

And whatever it was, Gabriel didn't think he'd have the time or patience to so much as care about Voldemort while dealing with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm really going to end it there. (Aside: oohh boy, Gabriel, you and Michael have ISSUES)
> 
> Comment, please!


	58. Position Changes and Curses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I feel like I should let you guys know that my computer broke.
> 
> I'm using my mom's at the moment, and I'll still be able to update, but there's some drama going on in that department. I probably won't be able to fix it, but hopefully all I'll lose is the list of books to read I put on those little post-its you can make pop up (:( hopefully I'll be able to remember most of them!)...and all my bookmarks :'(
> 
> But anyway! Updates are still good, like I said. I just won't be able to write as much, but this story's already finished so that doesn't really affect you.
> 
> I'm...not entirely sure where I was going with this chapter. Mostly I'm just trying to kill time in the HPverse until we get to the stuff I already planned out, while simultaneously keeping this interesting enough for you guys. Nothing's worse than waiting for an update and getting a boring chapter where nothing happens.
> 
> Problem is, by taking Draco away I pretty much destroyed the entire plot of book 6. Ah, well, I managed.

"I don't know what he's thinking, making Snape the new Defense teacher."

Hermione rolled her eyes behind her now-usual newspaper, though only Gabriel saw it, since he was sitting next to her. 

"Honestly, Ron," she said, exasperated, and Gabriel thought she might be regretting her choice to invite Gabriel and Michael to the Gryffindor table instead of sitting with them at Ravenclaw. "I'm sure Dumbledore has his reasons."

"Sure," Ron muttered. "Let's just hope the curse on the position is still there. I'm hoping for another death, personally-"

"Oh, really, Ron!" Hermione slammed the newspaper down. "Didn't you  _ hear  _ Dumbledore last night? We're supposed to be trying to get along!"

"He said that about the Houses," Michael reminded her as Ron snorted.

"With Snape?" Ron said darkly. "Fat chance."

Hermione turned to Gabriel, who answered the unspoken question without prompting.

"Honestly, I think someone who spends his time going between Voldemort and Dumbledore like that isn't the best choice."

"What?" All three of them were looking at him oddly.

"He's a spy," Gabriel elaborated. "Or double agent or whatever you want to call it. Dark Mark and all." He’d found out that tidbit while trying to find something good during his Trickster stint, but he’d never thought to share it before now.

Ron dropped his spoon, Hermione was still staring at Gabriel, and Michael raised nir gaze to the High Table with a thoughtful almost-frown.

"How do you know?" Hermione hissed.

"You don't need to whisper, no one's going to overhear us." Gabriel pointed out, mouth curling in a grin. "And I have my ways."

"He's right," Michael said. "I was wondering what that thing on Snape's arm was, but it must be the mark."

"What thing?" Both Hermione and Ron turned to look as well. "I don't see anything," Ron said doubtfully.

"Probably because your senses are too dull to see magic like that," Gabriel remarked idly.

"Excuse me?" Hermione looked insulted.

"Human and all," Gabriel clarified. The insulted scowl fell, only to be replaced by disappointment.

"Anything in the newspaper?" Michael changed the subject, lowering nir gaze back down to Hermione, whose eyes darted back to the paper.

"No, nothing today, luckily." She folded it up as she spoke. "What about you two?"

Michael glanced at Gabriel, and Gabriel pretended not to notice. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"Well..." Hermione looked a little more hesitant. "You can...you know, do stuff about Voldemort. To help. Didn't you?"

Michael looked slightly pained. Gabriel shrugged, making a 'so-so' motion with his hand.

Ron looked angry. "But you're - you know! Shouldn't you be helping?"

"You asked if one of us _had_ _done_ something, not if we were going to,” Gabriel said. 

“Will you?” Hermione asked pointedly. 

“Am I supposed to magically know where Voldemort is?” Gabriel replied dryly. “Maybe I should anticipate his next move, to boot. How ‘bout I bless the entire Order of the Phoenix with invulnerability?”

“Al _ right, _ ” Hermione snapped. “I get it.” She unfolded the newspaper again and vanished behind it with a huff.

“That was unnecessary,” Michael said quietly. Gabriel made a face and didn’t deign to reply. Ron was looking at them both askance.

“There is a lot of bad stuff happening, mate,” he said. “If you can do something, you should.”

“We’ll-” Michael began. Gabriel cleared his throat pointedly. “Fine,  _ I’ll  _ think about it. I don’t know what I can do, but I’ll keep an eye out for anywhere I can help.”

Both of them eyed Gabriel until he scowled at them. “Haven’t I helped already? Just because you haven’t seen it doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened.” He swung his legs off the bench. “I’m gonna head up to first period. I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.”

* * *

 

Hogwarts was a lot more boring than Gabriel remembered.

Maybe it was because he'd finally spent some time back in the familiar atmosphere of his old Earth - monsters prowling almost everywhere demons crawling over the surface and filling Hell. The old echoes of ancient gods and creatures and places that he  _ knew.  _

Being back in Heaven.

Whichever it was, it was something Gabriel hadn't experienced in that quantity for fifteen years, which while not that much time to an archangel was enough time that the re-immersion came as a shocking reminder of all that he'd missed out on while trapped on the wizard's Earth.

And now, compared to that? Hogwarts was boring.

_ Especially _ since there looked to be nothing more exciting happening than occasional reports of attacks and ominous happenings over wizarding and Muggle England alike.

Honestly. Even another giant snake would have been preferable to  _ this. _

Now Gabriel had nothing to do during his new free periods other than tell Michael about Death's warning.

"And you don't know what he meant?"

"If I did, I would have said." Gabriel was halfheartedly reading something in hopes of finding the necessary bit of information for an essay that had been assigned last period. Hermione would have been proud of him for getting on it so quickly, except he was barely paying attention to a single word that his eyes passed over.

Michael was frowning, head propped on nir interlocked hands. "Death doesn't just hand out warnings." It was a good thing Gabriel knew how to make sure no one would overhear them, or else there would have been some awkward questions raised long ago.

"You think I don't know that?"

"Something old..." Michael muttered. "How old, though? There are plenty of things he could be talking about."

"Us," Gabriel suggested sarcastically. He could hear Michael's aggravated huff of breath without even looking to check if he was right.

"I doubt that."

"Well, Death wasn't exactly going out of his way to clarify." Gabriel dropped the book on a nearby table (they were everywhere in the common room, and usually littered with random student's belongings) and swung his legs down from where they were propped on the arm of the chair.

"Why warn you in the first place, though?" Michael asked, sounding frustrated. "He's  _ Death." _

"Who knows what the fuck he's thinking?" Gabriel stood up. He hadn't meant for telling Michael to turn into hours of brainstorming what Death had meant, and he wasn't going to stick around.

"Where are you going?"

"Somewhere." Gabriel swept his books off the table and nearly dropped a couple, but fumbled for a grip and grabbed the last one by the front cover. "I'm just putting these away." He might have said  _ I'll be back,  _ if he were still talking to Michael Corner.

But he wasn't.

* * *

 

Gabriel only realized he was going to the library when he was halfway there. He slowed down, thinking, and then kept walking. He didn’t have any better ideas as to where to go. 

Though in hindsight, he should have expected to run into Hermione. 

“Oh - Gabriel.” Hermione peeked over the stack of books she was carrying, which was just barely short enough to allow it. “I didn’t expect - what are you doing in the library?”

“Nothing better to do.” Gabriel glanced over the spines of the books - the ones that were visible, at least. “What are  _ you  _ doing?” 

“Studying, of course. I passed my OWLs pretty well, but one never knows - oh, did you get your OWL scores?”

“Maybe?” Gabriel shrugged when Hermione frowned at him over the books. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t care, Hermione, you know that.”

“You should,” Hermione muttered, brushing past him. “You should care about a lot of things that you don’t.”

Exasperated, Gabriel almost let her walk off. A niggling sense of guilt told him that Hermione was usually sensible about these things, though, and so he walked after her.

“What do you want me to say?” He asked, catching up. “I don’t like talking about my family. So what? You  _ wanting  _ to know badly enough isn’t going to change that! You’re only mad because this isn’t something you can understand by reading about.”

“That’s not what this is about!” Hermione snapped back. “I’m asking about you and Michael, not your family history.”

“Michael and I  _ are  _ my family history,” Gabriel retorted. “You’re not listening when we say that. Our family has existed unchanged for  _ millennia,  _ so yeah, understanding why we don’t like each other is going to take a little backstory. If you’re not going to listen to  _ that,  _ I don’t see why I should waste time explaining why I’m not a fan of this turn of events.”

“Fine. I’m listening.” Hermione thunked the books down on a circular table and turned to face him, crossing her arms across her chest. “I’ve brushed up on what religious texts have to say about angels. Nothing you say is going to surprise me.”

“Michael almost killed another one of my older brothers because our dad told nem to and that pretty much set the tone for our entire relationship from then on,” Gabriel said bluntly. Hermione faltered, posture loosening.

“You mean Lucifer?” She asked. Gabriel twitched when she said the name aloud.

“Yep.” Gabriel smiled tightly. “And if I didn’t know exactly how badly it could go for you, I’d dare you to stay that name to Michael and see how ne reacts.”

“Why?” Hermione scoffed. “What’s the worst that ne would do?”

Gabriel stared silently at her until she started to shift nervously.

“You two can’t tell me that there’s more to explain than I think I’m asking for and then refuse to explain,” she said eventually, voice low. “I just want to understand.”

“Your answer is that it’s complicated,” Gabriel replied. “The long answer is that it’s quite honestly none of your business and more than I ever want to share with anybody.  _ You  _ need to understand that I’m not withholding information out of spite, or because I just don’t like you. You  _ are  _ my friend.”

“Well maybe I want to help my friends with whatever’s going wrong-”

“What part of  _ it’s none of your business  _ don’t you understand?” Gabriel snapped, and sighed at the hurt expression on Hermione’s face. “You can’t understand everything in the world just by asking enough times or wanting hard enough.”

“I don’t want to understand everything,” Hermione said, which was patently a lie. “I just want you two to get along. Like you used to.”

Gabriel sighed, and dragged a hand over his face. “Look - my history with Michael aside, you realize how unsettling it is to discover that someone you’d been friends with for years has secretly been your relative the entire time, right?”

“I suppose.” Hermione’s reluctance was clear on her face. 

“I don’t  _ want _ to fight with you.”

“Neither do  _ I,  _ I’m just - frustrated! With both of you, not just you.” Hermione uncrossed her arms as if to gesture emphatically, and then crossed them again without doing anything. “I know you  _ can  _ get along. I’ve seen you talk.”

“In extreme circumstances,” Gabriel muttered, thinking of the warning he’d passed on as quickly as possible only minutes ago.

Hermione gave him a flat look. “Can’t you at least try?”

Gabriel didn’t  _ want  _ to try, nor did he think it would go well in the end. “Maybe,” he said. “Let’s leave it at that.”

* * *

 

There was something buzzing in the pocket of his jacket, which was odd, because Gabriel didn't usually wear it at Hogwarts, and so no one could have slipped something into said pocket this early in the year.

The object, when he drew it out, was a phone.

Gabriel stared at the screen for a moment, as the thing kept buzzing. It must be Sam's - he vaguely remembered not giving it back to Sam when the younger Winchester had lent it to him last summer after summoning him, but how the hell was it working?

Aside from there being zero signal in the Scottish highlands, there was too much magic in Hogwarts. He was fairly sure Hermione had mentioned something like that, but it had been a few years ago and Gabriel didn't remember  _ everything. _

"What the hell?" The caller ID said Dean Winchester, which just made him not want to answer it as opposed to what might have been indifference, but Gabriel was still more concerned with how he was being called by someone when he was a galaxy and eight worlds over and in a place where no technology actually worked.

Ambient magic should have broken the phone long ago - or at least as soon as it had passed through the wards. Gabriel didn't know how he'd forgotten about having it in his pocket all summer.

The phone cut off, having reached its limit in how many times it rung or whatever. Setting it down on the table, Gabriel reached out with his Grace. The ambient magic should have-

There wasn't any ambient magic.

Gabriel paused for a moment before looking further. That wasn't right. Hogwarts was  _ full  _ of magic, so why wasn't there any in this dorm?

Probing further revealed that there was plenty of ambient magic on the outside the of the dorm, but it stopped at the door - for the most part, at least. The castle was so old and had been in use so long that magic was practically ingrained in the walls, but that wasn't enough to stop the phone working, it seemed.

Curious, Gabriel pushed closer at the walls, wondering what was keeping the magic out, and found faint traces of something that looked like Grace.

It took a moment to realize that they were from  _ him. _

"Huh." Gabriel sat down on the bed, chin propped on one hand. "So this is what happens when an archangel spends six years more or less in the same place." He had no doubt that the fact that he'd spent so much time here was the reason for this, but how?

He'd been at such low power, it was a miracle there had been any to seep out...

Gabriel smacked himself in the forehead as the realization hit. "Of course!" The reason he hadn't been able to access his power was because he hadn't gotten permission from the vessel, but what if he'd mistaken low power for it not coming back at all? If it  _ had  _ been coming back but not being used and forced to stay so low, then some of it would have seeped out and now doubt settled into almost every facet of the room.

When he looked, it was so obvious that Gabriel couldn't believe he hadn't noticed before.

Gabriel snorted. "What a find." If the Grace was keeping magic out, though, then that meant they repelled each other, which could come in handy later.

It would also explain why spells had always been slow to work for him, despite the grip on 'his' magic that Gabriel doubted any of the other students had - he was used to, and still mostly made up of, Grace - even in first year. Previously he hadn't paid it any attention and put it down to not really caring about the schoolwork, but now Gabriel wished he'd questioned it earlier.

Ah, well. Hindsight was 20/20, but Gabriel didn't care for looking back, and besides the phone was ringing again.

This time it was Castiel. Gabriel answered it.

"Yo! Bro. What can I do for you?"

There was a pause before anyone answered.

"...Gabriel?" Castiel asked, sounding confused. There was an indignant sputter in the background and low voices. The connection was terrible and staticky, and even a prod from Gabriel’s face couldn’t fix that. "Um...what are you doing with Sam's phone?"

"Must have forgotten to give it back," Gabriel replied cheerfully, and then raised his voice. "Lucky those Winchesters have multiple phones, huh? They heard that, right?" He asked, lowering his voice again.

"Yes," Castiel replied, and Gabriel distinctly heard someone swearing in the background. "One second."

There was another pause, and then someone else spoke.

"How the hell did you get your hands on my phone?" Sam sounded partly confused and partly like he was ready to break out the holy oil to get it back.

"Ah, you remember that time after you summoned me? When you were on the phone talking to Castiel in that horrendous truck you were driving?"

There was a short inhalation. "Shit. You never gave that back!"

"And it only took you three months this time." Gabriel pointed out, grinning (even though Sam couldn't see it). "You guys are getting better at this!"

"Are you going to give it back?"

"Maybe." Gabriel rolled out the word and let it drag itself out of his mouth. "I'd hate to keep getting summoned whenever you need something. A phone would be a lot more convenient." He didn't mention that most of the time, it was doubtful the phone would work at all.

"Usually we'd just pray."

"That's sweet of you, Sam, but I don't usually take personal prayers. And either way it's only a fifty-fifty chance that I'll actually show up. I've got other stuff to do."

Sam snorted, the sound distinct even over a phone connection that was millions of light-years long. "What stuff?"

"Archangel stuff. That is absolutely none of your business."

"Sure." Fortunately, Sam didn't press the issue. "Could you at least have the decency to send me a replacement? Phones are expensive."

Gabriel grinned, thinking of the possibilities. "Give me some time. I'll find one."

"Just don't send us anything-" Beep. Gabriel ended the call, grinning. Now where could he find the most outrageous cell phone?

"I think I might need to take a little trip."

He could do that now, after all.

* * *

 

Gabriel settled on a fairly normal phone (with some fairly inappropriate and tricked-out wallpaper that would be impossible to get rid of, as well as every version of Flappy Bird that he could find) and them found the weirdest and most unwieldy case possible and permanently attached it to the sleek pink phone.

He wondered if Sam would even keep it around long enough to discover that all the data and contacts from the phone Gabriel had 'borrowed' were also on it.

The Winchesters, Gabriel decided, really were very entertaining to screw with. Maybe he could ask Castiel to film their reaction to the...well, 'phone' didn't really describe it anymore. 'Disaster' might have been a better word. In any case, he might just stick around invisibly after he left it out for Sam to find to see what happened.

Sam's face was well worth the wasted time.

* * *

 

The first Hogsmeade weekend was halfway into October, and despite the bad weather Gabriel had been roped into accompanying Hermione down to the village.

This might not have been so bad, except Hermione seemed determined to keep putting him and Michael in close quarters, obviously convinced that it would help repair their relationship.

Snow was falling thickly outside, piling on top of the already thick layer on the ground. It would have probably been pleasanter if the snow hadn’t been so wet and if it weren’t so unpleasantly windy and frigid outside. 

"I can't believe I agreed to this," Gabriel muttered. Hermione was probably frowning but it was impossible to tell with the scarf she'd yanked over her face.

"Let's go to the Three Broomsticks," Michael suggested, nir words coming out muffled due to the fact that, to maintain appearances, ne were also wearing a scarf over nir face. "It'll be warmer in there."

It was difficult to make their way down High street, even though it was unusually empty of people. The Three Broomsticks was (apparently) a restaurant slash bar - Gabriel had almost never been in it, having mostly lost interest in Hogsmeade after his initial visit in third year.

Hermione tugged her scarf down with a sigh and slid into the nearest booth, which happened to be by the door. "This is much better."

"I'm surprised you wanted to come out in this weather," Gabriel commented, sliding into the booth next to her. Michael sat opposite them, glancing around at the crowded main room.

"Seems like a lot of other people had the same idea." Ne commented. "I've never seen it this crowded in here."

"It's not that bad," Hermione replied, shivering as the door opened and sent a wash of cold air towards them. "Ugh, we shouldn't have sat near the door."

Gabriel wordlessly held out his own scarf, but Hermione shook her head, neglecting to ask how it had gone from around his neck to in his hand. "No, I'll be fine. The weather's really a mess, though!"

"No kidding." A gust of snow blew in with the next group, who almost slammed the door behind them. They were decked out in Slytherin green-and-silver scarves, which meant that most of the guests started eyeing them warily, but the barmaid coming over to ask what they wanted occupied Gabriel so that he didn't see where they disappeared off to.

"Harry, do you want anything?"

"I'm good." Gabriel reconsidered. “Actually - I’ll take a Butterbeer, while we’re here.” He might as well enjoy himself in  _ some  _ way.

"Let's just go back up to the castle, there's nothing to do here and it's freezing."

"Agreed," Gabriel said. "Well, the first part at least."

Hermione huffed and smacked his shoulder, which was mostly ineffective through the layers. "Don't rub it in that you're fine, I feel like my fingers are about to fall off."

"You're fine." Of course, Hermione would never be anything less than fine, especially with two archangels as friends, but Gabriel never liked making it obvious when he liked someone enough to do things like that for them.

"Who's that?" Hermione was peering up ahead of them, where two figures were visible - if inaudible - through the still thickly falling snow.

"I don’t know." Michael peered as well. "One of them's wearing a Gryffindor scarf."

It was barely visible, like the girl who wore it, but as the three of them approached flashes of red and gold became more apparent, and so did the two figure's words.

"Katie, I don't think you should-"

"I know what I'm doing, Leanne," Katie said crossly, seizing the stray end of her scarf and wrapping it more firmly around her. "It's just a message - oh, hello, Hermione."

"Hello, Katie." Hermione said, waving and then stuffing her hand back in her pocket, despite the thick gloves she was wearing. "Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing." Katie said, but she wasn't looking at Hermione when she said it.

Leanne sniffed. "It's not nothing, Katie," she said angrily. "Just because someone told you that you should-"

"I told you, it wasn't just someone!"

"But you won't tell me who it is!"

"I think I need some explanation," Gabriel said, raising one hand in a 'hold it' motion. "Who are you talking about?"

Katie's mouth stayed shut, but Leanne turned towards Gabriel with teary eyes. "She said someone told her to take a message to Dumbledore, but she won't tell me what it is or who told her!"

"Leanne!" Katie looked mad. "It's none of his business!"

"Well, maybe he'll help!" Leanne shouted back. "You're acting really weird, Katie!"

Gabriel looked at Katie - really Looked, past the pure physical appearance - and narrowed his eyes.

"Leanne, right?" He said. "Why don't we just go up to the castle? I'm sure someone can deliver the message there."

"No!" All four of them looked over at the explosive shout. "I've got to deliver it myself!" Katie's fists were clenched tight at her sides, and Gabriel felt the niggling in his mind that meant Michael was trying to talk to him privately.

He tried not to sigh. It would be too obvious in this cold weather.

_ What do you want? _ He asked shortly.  


_ She's under a spell, isn't she? _

_ Brilliant deduction, Michael.  _ Gabriel was struck by an idea. He snapped the connection, noticing a brief spasm of discomfort cross Michael's face, and turned towards Katie, raising his hands placatingly.

"You said it was for Dumbledore, right?" He asked her, getting a sharp nod in return. "D'you know where his office is?" Gabriel gave himself a slightly condescending tone.

Katie blinked, posture loosening. "Um..."

"That's what I thought." Gabriel put his hands down. "I've been up there before. I could take you, if you like."

Katie eyed him warily. "It's meant to be a private message."

"So I won't listen in."

Katie was silent for a moment, probably considering Gabriel's proposal, and then a cloud of breath huffed out through her scarf. "Fine." She stomped past him, ignoring Leanne, and Gabriel turned around to give Hermione a thumbs-up before following.

In the current conditions, it didn't take long to get out of sight of Leanne - no doubt Michael would have tried to help and keep her from following, though Gabriel steamed at the idea that he depended on Michael to get stuff done.

The whirling snow obscured everything around them only a few moments later, and Katie squinted. "Where's the castle?"

"It's that dark shape up there," Gabriel said, pausing and standing still. "You can't see it?" He made himself sound mocking on purpose.

Katie didn't turn around, trudging on with a single-minded intensity. Frowning, Gabriel took a few large steps to catch up and caught her shoulder. "Hey-"

Katie whirled around, shoving him back, even though she succeeded more in pushing herself backwards while Gabriel didn't move in the least.

"Rude," Gabriel commented. "I'm showing you the way, after all."

"I can do it myself!" Katie shouted. "Go away!"

"You think you can find one office in that castle?"

Katie tried to punch him.

Fist blurring, Gabriel saw trails of the spell behind the motion - it was tricky to see, so someone must have tried to cover it up - and reached up even quicker, catching the fist. Katie's inertia took her forward and Gabriel saw a flash of fear on her face before he brought up his other hand and two fingers touched her forehead.

Katie slumped immediately and Gabriel barely caught her, enjoying the fact that he was able to use his Grace so freely. He'd hated having to restrict it.

Now where to go?

* * *

 

The headmaster's office, when Gabriel thought about it, was as good a place as any.

Or it would have been if Dumbledore were there.

"Huh." Gabriel let Katie slump in the unoccupied guest chair that was still sitting out and frowned at the just as empty one behind the desk, winter gear melting off because why not? It's not like anyone was watching except Fawkes.

"So..." Gabriel thought out loud, sitting backwards on the desk itself and staring up at the ceiling. "Someone curses a girl and makes her deliver a message to Dumbledore...but why?"

Lowering his gaze, Gabriel scrutinized Katie. Whatever enchantment she had been cursed on was wound around her - one part partially obscuring her head in a haze. It felt very similar to the Imperius, but the burst of Grace he'd used to knock her out had weakened the enchantment and it was already fading.

"Hm." Gabriel snapped one more time and the offending magic dissipated. Katie sagged slightly in the chair, relaxing even more and head lolling to the side. There was another secondary enchantment under the Imperius, but it was much weaker and was almost gone by the time Gabriel had noticed it was there at all, and so it was impossible to tell what it had been meant to do.

Another snap and Katie was gone, off to the hospital wing, where a mysterious visitor would alert Madam Pomfrey and vanish before anyone had time to ask them where they'd found Katie.

Gabriel leaned back on the desk. "Someone is up to something," He said aloud, talking to no one in particular (even if Fawkes did look like they were listening a little unnervingly closely, for a bird). "But what?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hints of plot emerging! Comment, please, to help me get through this trying computer-less time!


	59. Annoyances and Abandoned Headquarters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, stuff's finally happening! And there may or may not be a few new characters later, but you didn't hear it from me....
> 
> I apologize to anyone who might be put off by later developments, since in this chapter [mild spoiler] Michael finally runs into the Winchesters, who aren't exactly the most respectful of nir pronouns. I'm going to write in a correction as soon as reasonably possible to stop the Winchesters from being so accidentally rude [even if it is Michael because, come on, they don't really have the best relationship] but they wouldn't immediately *sense* Michael's preference for different pronouns and so they do call nem 'he' for the first bit of their encounter. So, sorry about that, but I'm really trying to be realistic here.
> 
> On that note, however, I do think once it was gotten across that Michael isn't a he, then neither of the Winchesters would really be rude enough to keep calling nem that.
> 
> Anyway! Chapter! Onwards!

There was plenty of speculation as to how, exactly, Katie Bell had ended up in the hospital wing perfectly fine and with absolutely no memory of the preceding twenty-four hours, but not a single one was even close to being correct.

Of course, it wasn't like many students would guess angelic intervention.

The rumors surrounding the odd occurrence were in full swing, barely dying out even weeks after Katie was released from the hospital wing. Whoever had done it was either not in Hogwarts (more likely) or keeping their distance from Gabriel, because he hadn't been able to detect any malicious thoughts among what students he could without reading their mind.

And hey, minds were private. Even Gabriel respected that.

Most of the time, at least.

Another minor annoyance was Horace Slughorn, who had been brought back (again) to fill the vacancy left by Snape moving to the Defense position. Gabriel didn't like the man any more than he had last year - in fact, if anything, the elderly professor seemed to have gotten even more annoying. He was constantly sending out invitations to influential or talented students - or at least that was what Hermione said, because Gabriel hadn't bothered to pay the least bit of attention to the little rolls of parchment being circulated around.

Hermione, it seemed, did not have this luxury.

"You don't have to go."

"I don't want to refuse, it would be impolite." Hermione said impatiently, voice at a whisper, since the two of them were currently in the library.

"Screw impolite," Gabriel scoffed. "If you don't want to go, don't go."

"You're oversimplifying this."

"Am I?" Gabriel raised one eyebrow. "What's so bad about the parties?"

"Well, they're not that bad - the one I went to, in any case." Hermione sighed. "But Ron keeps getting irritable about all of it, and all the other people there can be a bit stuffy."

"I don't get why you're still hanging around Ron." Gabriel shook his head, glancing down at the essay he was supposed to be working on.

"We're friends," Hermione said idly, flipping a page in her textbook.

"You're arguing half the time you're around each other."

"He can be annoying sometimes, but you can be too."

"Me?" Gabriel put a hand over his heart, leaning back in a dramatic display of (obviously) false offense. "Hermione, I'm hurt."

Hermione only rolled her eyes. "Slughorn keeps asking if you'll be able to come to the next one, you know."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him I'd ask."

"Oh, come on. Now he'll actually be expecting me."

"You could just  _ go." _

"Why?" Gabriel snorted. "Please. I've got better things to do."

"Like what?" Hermione put down her quill, giving Gabriel an  _ oh please  _ look. "You don't seem like you're doing anything."

"Something might come up. I'm keeping a lookout for anything weird happening." Gabriel shrugged, feeling the weight of the 'borrowed' phone in his pocket.

"Weird like what?" Hermione's brow creased. "I thought the reason you were so busy over the summer was because you were fixing things?"

"Yeah, but that takes more than just one summer, Hermione," Gabriel replied, the edge of a laugh mixed with something darker coloring his voice. "I'm kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop, honestly. It seems like it was almost too easy."

"That’s what Michael said. You didn’t seem that interested in whatever is happening now.”

Gabriel shrugged, spreading his hands slightly in an  _ I don't know  _ gesture. "I went in, found the problem, a bunch of us got together and solved it. The  _ problem  _ is that nothing seems to be happening now." Not that he could really know, without being in the right universe.

"It's not usually that easy? In Heaven, I mean?"

"It's never that easy anywhere."

Hermione worried at the feather of her quill absentmindedly, staring at it without seeming to really see it. "Katie wasn't involved in any of this, was she?"

Gabriel glanced up at Hermione. "No, that was just wizard stuff."

"So who did that?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Hard as it may be to believe, I don't know everything."

"But it was a wizard," Hermione pressed, continuing once Gabriel nodded. "Do you think it's connected to whatever Voldemort's doing?"

"It depends on whether he's recruiting teenagers now," Gabriel answered dryly. "And I kinda doubt that, so if it is connected to him it's someone working alone to try and gain favor."

"By what, Imperiusing a Gryffindor?" Hermione asked skeptically.

Gabriel's fingers tapped on the table, a random pattern that kept changing. "She said she had to take a message to Dumbledore."

Hermione, as soon as she understood Gabriel's meaning, looked horrified. "You don't think-"

"That a wannabe death eater would be desperate enough to curse someone and turn them into some sort of magical suicide bomber?" Gabriel shrugged. "Going off of what I've seen of Voldemort's goons before, it's pretty likely."

"She wouldn't have stood a chance." One of Hermione's hands had strayed to rest over her mouth. "Dumbledore's too powerful-"

"But he wouldn't be trying to hurt Katie," Gabriel remarked, mentally dismantling the plan. "Meanwhile, under the curse, she'd be throwing everything she had at him."

"That's horrible." Hermione breathed.

Gabriel shrugged again. "We're at war, Hermione. This kind of stuff isn't exactly gonna be uncommon."

"I wish it was,” Hermione murmured. Gabriel shrugged, and let the conversation trail off.

* * *

 

Luckily, by the time the hypothetical shoe loosened the tenuous grip it had on whatever was holding it up, Gabriel was outside the castle and therefore actually able to answer the phone.

Feeling it vibrate in his pocket (and glad for an excuse to leave the stadium - why Michael still liked Quidditch was even more beyond him than it had been previously) Gabriel stood up and started scooting towards the staircase, edging around people, most of whom drew their legs back and out of his way. The only reason he’d come out was to pacify Hermione, and he was glad for the excuse to leave.

Once halfway down towards the ground, Gabriel snatched the phone out of his pocket, cursing his luck. It had stopped ringing right when he'd gotten onto the stairs, but it was easy enough to find who had called him (Dean) and, with a grimace, call back.

The hunter picked up on the second ring.

"Gabriel?" The connection was still terrible and static-filled.

"No, the other guy who has your brother's phone," Gabriel replied sarcastically. "What'd you call me for?"

There was a miniscule pause on the other end before Dean answered. "Look, we got...a bit of a situation over here, and Cas said we should call you just for backup." Gabriel could hear the underlying growl in Dean's voice that conveyed exactly how much of a bad idea he thought this was.

"Well, I could have guessed that it wasn't your idea." Gabriel retorted dryly. "What kind of situation?"

"I don't freaking know, that's why Cas said you should come. It's something to do with angels, but we don't have much more info than that."

"Angelic, huh?" Gabriel sensed Michael moving towards him from the stands and his eyes flicked upwards momentarily at the creak of the staircase. "Sounds interesting. Maybe."

"Are you gonna come or not? 'Cause I ain't sitting around waiting for you to show if you're not going to."

The stairs creaked again.

Gabriel made a decision and hung up.

"Is that a phone?" Michael asked.

"Glad to see you're not that out of touch with non-magical stuff." Gabriel slipped the phone back into his pocket, not turning around to look up at Michael.

"Are you going to go?"

"And here I thought you didn't eavesdrop." Gabriel replied dryly.

"Dean doesn't exactly make an effort to be quiet." Michael replied, one hand resting on the railing.

Gabriel only raised his eyebrows and used one hand to swing himself down onto the next flight of stairs, descending manually rather than fly. He'd rather it take that much longer for Michael to follow him.

Michael was still leaning over the railing above nir younger brother. "You haven't answered my question."

"Yep, that was intentional." Between one step and the next, Gabriel decided he'd had enough of the overly-creaky stairs and vanished from the stadium.

Wherever the Winchesters were, it was nighttime, and chilly - not that Gabriel really felt it, but he could still tell - and Sam jerked in surprised as he appeared.

"We shouldn't have expected - what?" Dean swung around when he noticed his brother's reaction, one hand on where his gun was no doubt tucked into his waistband, and then relaxed minimally with a snort.

Castiel only nodded in greeting. "Gabriel," he said, a note of relief in his voice. "We weren't sure you were coming."

"Just because I don't come immediately like you do?" Gabriel waggled his eyebrows at the innuendo, though most likely it had gone right over Castiel's head. "Mind giving me a few more details on whatever mess you're in now?"

Before any of them could answer, there was another flutter of wings and both Gabriel and Castiel stiffened.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked roughly, gun drawn this time and pointed towards the unknown. Gabriel noted that Sam was holding the Colt - and here he'd been thinking that they'd lost track of it after they failed to kill Lucifer with it.

"Michael," Castiel breathed. He obviously recognized the presence, if not the vessel, and was staring openly. Both of the Winchesters did double takes, eyes moving rapidly between Michael, Castiel, and Gabriel. Dean's eyes squinted in suspicion at the former.

"How the hell did you find us?" Dean demanded, gun still cocked.

"I followed Gabriel," Michael replied, and Dean's gaze - as well as his gun - switched to point accusingly at Gabriel.

"Don't look at me like that," Gabriel scoffed, raising one finger and swiping it sharply to one side, the silver gun following the movement and clattering out of Dean's hand. "You think Michael's first on my list of people to hang out with?"

"Doesn't explain what he's doing here." Sam was still aiming the Colt unerringly at Michael, whose face gave a twitch of irritation at the misgendering. Surprisingly, ne didn't say anything.

"That's not going to work," Ne said flatly.

"Wanna bet?" Sam asked.

"Don't be an even bigger moron than you two usually are, Sam," Gabriel scoffed, spinning on his heel and glancing around where he'd landed. Some empty and - for the most part - undeveloped land. Judging by the lights in the distance, they were on the outskirts of a town. "It didn't work on Lucifer, you think it's gonna work on Michael?"

Sam's eyes flicked down to the Colt, then back up at Michael, before he scowled and tucked it back in his jacket.

Gabriel spread his arms. "Details, please?"

"Oh, not with him here." Dean jerked his thumb at Michael, who was looking progressively less and less pleased.

"Dean," Sam hissed, jerking his brother to the side.

"What?" Dean snapped.

"I don't like Michael either but please don't  _ deliberately  _ provoke an archangel."

"Still waiting," Gabriel reminded them.

Dean glared at him, then walked away from the group to go retrieve his gun, leaving Sam awkwardly standing among three angels. Castiel was still keeping two wary eyes on Michael, which was understandable, considering that last time the two of them had been within ten feet of each other Castiel had molotoved nem with holy fire.

It wasn't exactly favorable circumstances for a reunion, but Michael didn't seem to be glaring at Castiel, or doing anything at all to suggest that ne were anything less than perfectly willing to just stand there waiting for whatever was going on to be explained.

"Uh..." Castiel turned slightly so that he was more facing Gabriel than the other archangel present, eyes still occasionally flickering over to watch nem. "We think we've found one of Malachi's old headquarters."

"Malachi?" Gabriel questioned. "Didn't they-"

"Lead one of the factions when we were trapped down here," Castiel finished, nodding. "They and Bartholomew were the main powers, or provocation more like, behind the factions that formed."

"And you think you've found where they were holed up?" Gabriel frowned. "Why bother? Isn't everyone back upstairs? Or most of them, at least."

"Not all." Castiel shook his head. "It was Hannah's idea, to make sure that all those who  _ were  _ still down here wanted to be here."

Gabriel raised his head in sudden understanding, gaze sharpening. "You think something might have been left behind."

"Yes." Castiel hesitated before continuing. "Or someone."

Michael's mouth thinned, and Gabriel knew he must look to be in a similar state.

"Where?" He asked, as Dean finally rejoined the circle, standing next to Castiel and glaring for all he was worth at Michael.

"A little ways north of here," Sam said, jerking his head up the road. Gabriel could vaguely see a sharp corner poking around the bend - some building sitting on the side of the road, out of the way with no people likely to come by.

It was a smart place to stay, but that just made him angrier. Why couldn't Malachi have been an idiot? Things might have been so much simpler, and any angels that might be in there would have already been rescued.

_ Or killed,  _ a voice in the back of his mind whispered, but Gabriel squashed it down and spread his wings.

* * *

 

"Not a very pleasant place, is it?" Gabriel remarked.

Castiel's wings had scooped the Winchesters along with him as he followed Gabriel, and Michael was there as well (to Gabriel's disappointment, although he hadn't really expected nem  _ not  _ to come). The brothers were looking around at their surroundings - and more specifically, the burned imprints on the ground.

"Someone's been here already," Sam observed, skirting the shape of a person sprawled half on the wall. Gabriel was very pointedly not looking at them.

"No shit, Sherlock," He said as scathingly as possible, frustration seeking an outlet. Castiel looked distinctly uncomfortable, and although he was keeping silent on angel radio Gabriel got the feeling it was for a very different reason than being uncomfortable with dead angels.

Michael had already started striding down the hall, turning into the first doorway ne found.

"Where are you going?" Dean called after nem, voice still harsh with mistrust, but Michael's reply only came in the form of a withering look and nem disappearing through the door.

"We might as well split up and look," Sam said, sounding faintly exasperated. "We won't find much otherwise."

"Fine," Dean grumbled. "I'm going with Cas. You comin'?" He set off down the hallway, peering into doors (and resolutely avoiding the one Michael had ducked into) without waiting for an answer from Castiel, who of course was already following him.

Sam glanced down at Gabriel, and then shrugged and started walking down the hallway as well.

"What's that look for?" Gabriel called, setting off after Sam and carefully not stepping on any of the blackened imprints - something no one else but Michael had bothered to do. "I'm a joy to be around."

The resulting look sent in his direction could have dried the Dead Sea, but even so Gabriel didn't grin. The joke had been mostly empty anyway.

It was difficult to laugh while surrounded by the imprints of dead siblings he didn't even know the names of.  


* * *

 

Malachi's warehouse was mostly abandoned, although there was no shortage of  _ stuff  _ that had been left behind, neither Sam nor Gabriel had come across any angels, captive or otherwise.

Sam's eyes skirted across tables of instruments, which mysteriously vanished as soon as he stopped looking at them. He turned on Gabriel, an irritable expression twisting his features. "Will you  _ stop  _ that?"

"Stop what?" Gabriel asked innocently, as the tray Sam had been aiming his flashlight at only moments previously emptied itself. He'd be damned if he let the Winchesters get their hands on some of the stuff Malachi had left lying around, but vanishing just some of it would be too suspicious.

Sam frowned, glanced back at the tray, and proceeded to conjure up an even more annoyed bitchface, but Gabriel just smirked and turn to step through yet another doorway. The place seemed to be made of nothing but tiny adjoining rooms - and unless Gabriel had been there, he guessed that the Winchesters might have been wandering around in the same rooms for ages before they realized it.

"See anything?"

"We're in the same room. I doubt I'm seeing anything you aren't."

If eye-rolling was an emotion, then Sam Winchester would be the picture next to the definition in the dictionary. "Look," he said. "I get that you're not thrilled about having to help us out, but no one  _ made  _ you-"

"It's great to know you think you're important enough to affect my mood that much," Gabriel interrupted him. "And by great, I mean I don't care. But please, go on talking to yourself, if it makes you feel better."

"Is this about Michael?"

Gabriel didn't answer, but his frown deepened.

"Do you not get along wi-"

"Do I  _ look  _ like I get along with nem?" Gabriel snorted. "In case you don't remember, Sasquatch, I'm a runaway. Michael didn't exactly take it  _ well,  _ but that's to be expected."

"...Nem?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Sam," Gabriel said dryly, nudging a cart out of the way of a locked door and absentmindedly breaking the lock. "Also known as a pronoun, or way of referring to a person. You heard of the concept?"

Without waiting for an answer, Gabriel swung the door open and then froze.

Behind him, Sam sucked in a breath.

"I'll go get Cas," he said, glancing at Gabriel and seeing his stony expression. Sam's footsteps rapidly receded, but Gabriel was a bit occupied with the angel chained in cuffs which were practically glowing with the energy they were leeching off her Grace to contain her.

A single snap and the cuffs vanished, the angel's eyes shooting open to the accompaniment of a surge of Grace which made Gabriel slide back a few inches with pure force. She'd been locked up a long time, with a backlash like that. He squashed down his anger, with less success.

The previously trapped angel scooted backwards, stiffening when her back hit the wall and hands scrabbling among the scattered contents of the upended tables in search of a weapon.

"It's alright." Gabriel held up his hands, very slowly moving to sit on the threshold of the door to make himself shorter. "It's alright," He repeated. "I'm not here to hurt you." He let his hands rest on his knees, resting and very obviously not holding anything dangerous.

The angel didn't look like she believed him, but she stayed perfectly still, gaze fixed on Gabriel, who remained in the doorway.

"I'm not with Malachi," Gabriel said carefully, and wasn't surprised by the slight flinch the angel gave at the name.

"How do I know?" She asked warily, one hand clenched around a knife.

"They're dead."

Her eyes widened, but her grip didn't loosen. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't, I guess." Gabriel shrugged. "But I am." He knew he wasn't being exactly reassuring, but no one working for Malachi would have given up on even trying to convince her that they were telling the truth.

The angel seemed to realize that, too, relaxing minutely. "Who are you?" She asked, not making a move to leave the corner she'd crowded herself into.

"Gabriel."

Her breath hissed in, the sharp inhalation obvious in the silent room. "No," She said almost, whispering. "All the archangels are dead."

Gabriel shrugged, spreading his hands slightly. "Surprise."

The angel stared at him for a moment longer, eyes moving slightly - Gabriel guessed that she was looking at him more carefully, noticing what she might not have before, especially since Gabriel had folded his wings so that they were much more easily mistaken for one pair.

It never hurt to be a little cautious.

"Why are you here?" The angel asked, and Gabriel was going to answer when he felt someone land behind him, and the angel's head jerked up to look at whoever was behind him. "Castiel!"

"Muriel." Castiel said, relief and an edge of sorrow clear in his voice.

But, wait a moment.  _ Muriel? _

Gabriel would have twisted around to look at Castiel, except the younger angel was suddenly in front of him, walking towards Muriel. "Are you alright?" He asked, pausing when Muriel edged back.

"Fine," Muriel said, voice shakier than it had been a moment ago.

"Don't crowd her, bro," Gabriel said, rising to a kneeling position. Castiel, realizing his mistake, retreated slightly.

"You're injured," he said, and it was true - there were trails of blood on Muriel's vessel, but Gabriel couldn't sense any major wounds in her Grace - which meant either she'd been here long enough for the worst of it to heal, or else she hadn't been that seriously injured in the first place.

Judging by what he'd heard of Malachi, Gabriel was leaning towards the first option.

"Dean and I haven't found anyone else," Castiel said, turning to Gabriel slightly. "I believe Muriel is the only one still here."

"You're saying we should go, then?" Gabriel asked, raising one eyebrow.

Castiel nodded. "This is...not a place I want linger in."

"Well, I'm with you there." Gabriel pushed himself to his feet, looking back towards Muriel before moving anywhere. "What do you say?" He asked, inclining his head towards the doorway. "Ready to leave this dump behind?"

Muriel scattered some of the equipment in her attempt to rise, pulling herself up using the post she'd been chained to. "Please, yes."

* * *

 

Muriel was the first one out the door.

Dean jumped back as she wrenched the door open, practically sprinting out the door and only stopping once she'd gotten a few feet away, dropping to her knees in the grass and staring up at the sky.

"What's up with her?" Dean asked, staring after the freed angel.

"She's been inside for who knows how long," Gabriel replied, giving Dean a look that conveyed his feelings about the depth of the hunter's intellect. "Wouldn't you want to be outside?"

"That's the angel you found?" Dean asked, ignoring the look.

"Yes." Castiel nodded, as the rest of them exited the building. "Muriel. I...met her briefly, once before."

"Huh." Sam glanced at her again. "She alright?"

"Nothing major," Gabriel answered for Castiel, shrugging again. "She seems pretty okay to me. I don't think Malachi bothered...well." The words were reluctant to leave his mouth, but the other three seemed to get the gist of it.

"Where'd Michael go?" Dean glanced around, as if only then realizing that the older archangel was no longer with them.

"You think I know?" Gabriel asked, one eyebrow arched.

"Wh -  _ no one  _ knows where he is?"

"I thought you didn't care," Gabriel quipped.

"I care enough not to want nem who knows where without anyone watching," Sam muttered.

"I can assure you, I'm not up to anything."

All four of them jumped at Michael's sudden appearance. Gabriel was starting to get why humans had always been annoyed when he just popped in and out at will.

"Jesus Christ," Dean muttered.

"I would appreciate it if you kept him out of the conversation." Michael didn't look any happier than Gabriel felt about the warehouse in general, which (with the old Michael) would have meant that it would be up in flames - or gone in Grace - by now.

"What, you think I'm gonna do what  _ you  _ want me to do?"

"Dean-" Sam looked alarmed.

Michael was glaring now, and Gabriel noticed that Castiel - like himself - had one hand near his angel blade and eyes fixed on the angry archangel.

"I am not in the mood right now, Dean Winchester," Michael said, quietly but severe at the same time, and ne'd always been good at that. "So if you would just-"

Gabriel didn't want to know where that sentence might have gone, had they not been interrupted by the sudden arrival of several angels.

All four angels spun around to face the group that was now standing on the road. Muriel had shot to her feet, and was nervously edging closer to Castiel.

"So it's true." The lead angel's eyes were fixed on Michael. "You're back."

Michael's only movement was to nod slowly. "Iaoth," ne said by way of answer, and Gabriel mentally noted it as the lead angel's name.

Iaoth looked bewildered. "But - where have you been?" They asked. "Hannah and Verchiel said you were in Heaven - ages ago! Why haven't you come back?"

Ah.

Gabriel gestured discreetly at Castiel.  _ Get out of here. _

_ What about- _

_ NOW, Castiel. _

With something like a grimace, Castiel reached out for Muriel, who allowed him to grasp her shoulder. He vanished with a double flutter - Muriel must have flown as well - and accompanied by the disappearance of the Winchesters, but Gabriel was more interested in observing the conversation between his siblings.

Michael had taken a while to answer, and while that meant that Gabriel hadn't missed anything during his hurried, telepathic conversation with Castiel, it also meant that Iaoth was getting a bit agitated.

"I aided Gabriel in reopening the Gates," Michael said finally. "I returned to other business after that."

"Other business?" Iaoth seemed uncomprehending. "I - you could have simply stayed in Heaven."

Michael closed nir eyes briefly, opening them almost immediately. "Yes."

Iaoth appeared taken aback by the short answer. "Then - why not?"

Even though there was no way in Hell - or rather, Heaven - that Gabriel would ever be able to see into Michael's thoughts, he could practically feel nir indecision. "I have been occupied with other business."

Iaoth stared. A small smile was fastened on their face - one born of the belief that whoever they were listening surely must be joking - right? 

"You are Michael," they said, uncomprehending. "You are our leader. What other business is there? You must lead Heaven." They became more insistent towards the end, and Gabriel stiffened.

Michael did, too.

"I  _ must  _ lead," Ne said, and Iaoth's smile faded as they realized what they had said.

"I didn't mean-"

"What did you mean, Iaoth?" Michael asked, not letting them finish.

"It's been chaos since you were tricked." The words came pouring out. "First with the war, and then with Raphael and Castiel fighting, and then -  _ this  _ business with Metatron - Heaven is - we  _ need  _ a leader." Iaoth looked pleadingly at Michael. "You are our General."

"I know." Michael seemed almost resigned to it, but that couldn't possibly be right. "And I know what has happened, Iaoth."

"Then why?"

The question hung in the air between the group of angels for longer than words normally did.

"I am still your General," Michael said quietly. "And I will return. But not now, Iaoth. I am not meant for rebuilding."

"Then what are we supposed to do?"

Michael's mouth tightened and for a moment Gabriel thought ne might be getting truly angry again - but the moment was gone as soon as it came.

And then Michael was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's fairly long, and boy did I shove some major plot points in here. I hope you don't mind the tiny cliffie too much.
> 
> Comment, please!


	60. An Ominous Occurrance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooooh, stuff's getting doooooooooone this chapter
> 
> and by that, I mean Major Plot Developments, so pay attention! And there was important stuff last chapter too! I'm surprised nobody's commented on Muriel yet...

"Yeah, thanks a  _ lot  _ for leaving me to deal with that lot alone," Gabriel snapped, landing in Michael's room without bothering with knocking.

Michael looked strangely guilty, which really meant that ne looked a bit more regretful than Gabriel had expected. "I didn't mean-"

"Do you know how determined Iaoth is?" Gabriel demanded without letting nem finish. "They were Zachariah's second in command! I swear, they were half a second from taking out an angel blade to get some answers. I did not sign up for bullshitting answers because you didn't feel like giving them!"

"I didn't mean for you to have to!" Michael shot back.

"Well, that's what happened!"

Michael looked on the edge of letting whatever retort ne were biting back slip, but nir self-restraint won out and all ne did was turn away.

Gabriel paused for only a second, surprised that Michael didn't start shouting back. "Surprised you were so against going back," he said eventually.

"I'm not." Michael replied sharply. "I...it's not the right time."

"The right time," Gabriel repeated, leaning against the doorway in false nonchalance. "When's that?"

The look Michael gave Gabriel might have been classified as a glare, if there was any anger behind it. "Is it a crime to want to stay here a little longer?" Ne asked pointedly. "Voldemort's still around."

"I didn't say anything like that," Gabriel retorted. "It's called curiosity."

There was a short pause during which Michael seemed unwilling to reply, and changed the subject instead. "That angel," ne said. "What was her name?"

"Muriel," Gabriel replied shortly, and Michael swung back around to look at him.

" _ Muriel?  _ As in the one who possessed Ravenclaw?"

"Yeah, that  _ was  _ Muriel," Gabriel said, frowning. "Didn't think you remembered that."

"It's difficult to forget." Michael was staring at nothing in particular (even if it looked like ne was focusing with an unnerving - to a human, at least - intensity on one of the bedposts). "Especially when they write you a letter."

"When they-" It took Gabriel a moment to remember the letters he'd found in Muriel's room - that, and the fact that one of them had been addressed to Michael. "Oh. Right." He'd gotten Death to deliver those, hadn't he?

"I assume you got one, too."

"Yeah. Earlier than you did yours." Gabriel was not entirely sure what had happened to the mood of the conversation, but the mood for picking fights had left him.

"I figured that you must have found them." Michael replied, sitting on the end of the bed, "But I didn't see you leave it."

"I didn't." Gabriel shrugged. "Death did."

"Death?" Michael sounded amused. "What did you do to get him to agree to that?"

"It was a mutual-favor thing," Gabriel replied evasively. "I figured he'd be the only one who'd be able to get into the Cage, anyway."

"The Cage?"

Michael's outward expression didn't change, but there was an ominous creak from the wooden headboard as nir hands clenched it tightly. Gabriel was reminded of the fact that the Cage was probably not the best topic of conversation to bring up. Michael's next words, however, surprised him.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Gabriel frowned. He was beginning to get the sense that something was off. "When exactly did you get this letter?" Funny, he'd have thought that Death would be the last person to procrastinate. Maybe that just applied to people whose time was up.

Michael seemed puzzled as well, although going solely by nir expression Gabriel would have been hard-pressed to guess that. "Right before terms started," Ne replied, as if it should have been obvious.

Oh, of course.

Gabriel laughed, turning away slightly, and he could feel Michael's confusion. "Right after I gave him the third one," He muttered. "Smooth, Death. I should have known."

"Known what?" Gabriel heard the creak of the floorboards that told him Michael had stood up, and turned around to face his sibling with the momentary grin gone.

"That Death would skimp out on delivering it right away," He replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I found 'em - well, back in first year technically, but I didn't give them to  _ him  _ until after the Tournament."

That seemed to give Michael pause. "The Tournament? That long ago?"

"It's only two years, Michael. Less than that, even."

"I guess humanity messed up my sense of time a little." Michael glanced down for the briefest of seconds. "You, ah...you struck a deal with Death to get a letter to me?"

Ah.

"Well-" Gabriel was struck with a very acute sense of discomfort, and had to make a conscious effort not to fidget, a reflex he'd picked up after so many years down on Earth. What he  _ wasn't _ going to say was that even after the whole Apocalypse business, with Michael in the Cage, he'd still thought that the latter deserved - or maybe needed - to hear what Muriel had to say.

Especially going by what had been in the one she left for Gabriel.

"They weren't just for you," he ended up saying.

Michael only nodded in understanding. "She left one for you, too. So you said."

Gabriel just nodded back, a short, sharp movement. Michael didn't need to know about the one that must have found its way into Lucifer's hands by now - or the one for Raphael that Gabriel had stuffed in the bottom of his trunk, left still undelivered.

Michael let out a breath, a puff of air in the surprisingly still dorm room. "I've never even properly met her," ne said abruptly. "Today was the first time I even saw her, actually."

Gabriel didn't reply. He'd never met Muriel properly either, but wasn't willing to mention it. That would classify as common ground between them, at least, and only people who were attempting to reconnect brought stuff like that up. Michael started talking again, to fill in the silence that had begun to weigh on the room.

"We messed up," ne sighed, sitting down again in the same place. "This can't be the way They wanted it to go."

"Like either of us are ever gonna know." Gabriel closed his mouth sharply, but the vehement words had already left it. Michael didn't look up at him, but linked nir hands together and rested them over nir mouth.

"Do you think this was one of Their tests?"

The question caught Gabriel off guard.

"Maybe it is," he said. "So what?" Gabriel wasn't sure when this had become a sibling bonding session, and was subtly glancing around for excuses to leave the room.

Fortunately, one practically landed in his lap.

A prefect opened the door, huffing as though she'd sprinted up the staircase. "Michael, there's someone - oh." She had obviously not expected someone else to be in there. "Um, were you busy?"

"No," Gabriel said shortly, shouldering through the doorway next to her. "I was just leaving."

_ No, you weren't.  _ Gabriel snapped of his connection to angel radio - _ again,  _ he didn't know why he kept opening it back up - but Michael's slightly accusatory tone lingered in the back of his mind.

* * *

 

"You won't  _ believe  _ what I got in Slughorn's class."

"If the answer is a grade under an EE, you're right, I wouldn't believe it." Gabriel ducked the balled-up bit of parchment Hermione halfheartedly tossed at him.

"All joking aside-" She began.

"When is any sort of joking aside with me?" Gabriel asked, one eyebrow raised.

" _ As I was saying."  _ Hermione sent him a sharp, pointed look and Gabriel raised his arms in mock surrender while leaning back in his chair, feet propped on the table.

"Alright, fine. As you were saying...?"

Hermione held up a tiny gold bottle.

Once Gabriel looked closer, it became obvious that it wasn't the bottle, but the contents, that were golden, and it seemed to shift in constant movement.

"What kind of potion is that, again?" Michael asked from the other side of the table, nearly directly opposite Gabriel. Gabriel had scooted subtly away as soon as ne had sat down.

"Felix Felicis," Hermione said proudly. "He said he'd give it to whoever could make the best potion - and as not many people got into NEWT potions, it wasn't exactly difficult."

"How many people are in the class?" Gabriel asked.

"Not counting Michael?" Hermione made an 'eh' face. "Maybe three."

Gabriel whistled. "Let me guess. Snape discouraged most people?"

"Well, actually, no. Slughorn let in anyone who wanted to take it, regardless of what Snape said at the beginning of last year. This one Slytherin, something Nott, he came fairly close to winning it, too."

"Not surprised he didn't beat you," Gabriel commented, and Hermione smiled as she tucked the bottle back away. "What's Felix whatever do, then?"

"Felix Felicis," Hermione corrected. "And it's a luck potion."

"Luck?"

"It makes you lucky," Hermione explained further. "Whatever you do after you take it, you'll be incredibly lucky, although it's dangerous to take in large amounts - never more than a tablespoonful, he said."

"And I'm sure Slughorn's the leading expert on this thing." Gabriel muttered with raised eyebrows and an accompanying eyeroll.

"He  _ is  _ the potions teacher. I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't hire anyone he didn't think was capable."

"Are you forgetting Lockhart?"

"That's different. No one wants the Defense job - whoever applies is hired!"

"Lockhart wasn't anywhere near competent, you have to admit," Michael said, nudging a few books out of the way of Gabriel's feet.

Hermione huffed irritably and propped open a book, eyes immediately dropping to scan the text. "He wasn't that bad."

"Hermione, he quizzed us on  _ him.  _ Not the subject.  _ Him." _

"Well, at least he never tried to kill you." Hermione said pragmatically.

"Like that makes it better."

* * *

 

"Oh, no."

"What?" Both Gabriel and Michael looked up at the same time, having gotten used to receiving bad news at the breakfast table, since that was when Hermione - like so many others - got the paper. Not many people were discussing the news, although that was partly because not many people were in the hall anymore - it was Saturday, and at this time most people were either in their common rooms or in bed.

"There's been some sort of attack." Hermione’s face was hidden behind the paper from Gabriel’s perspective. Ne had ended up seated next to Michael, since they were at the Ravenclaw table. "They think it was the Imperius - the person who did it doesn't remember anything."

Michael frowned. "That's not usually an effect of the Imperius," ne said, leaning forward to try and get a glimpse of the story.

"I know." Hermione tilted the newspaper slightly, so she could see over it. "It's odd, don't you think? I mean, not realizing what you're doing while under it is one thing, but memory loss isn't a usual side effect once it's been removed."

"What else does it say?" Gabriel asked, propping his elbows on the table and refusing to lean forward as far as Michael had.

Hermione's head bent down towards the article again, her face inches from the print as her eyes zipped over it. "The victim was a boy whose parents kept him home instead of sending him to Hogwarts - oh, how horrible, they made him attack his own parents-"

"Muggleborn?" Michael asked.

Hermione paused, reading a bit further down. "...No, actually."

"No?" Gabriel echoed, sitting up with a frown.

"It says he was a halfblood - witch mother, muggleborn father - so really more like three-quarters wizard." Hermione was frowning, too, confusion twisting her mouth as she puzzled over it. "This doesn't sound like a death eater attack at all. It says there wasn't even a Mark left, so the neighbors were the ones who called it in when they noticed that no one had gone in or out in a few days."

Michael glanced at Gabriel. Gabriel pretended he didn't notice. "So what do they say?" He asked conversationally, as if they weren't discussing a brutal murder.

"They're still blaming it on Voldemort."

"That’s odd.” Gabriel frowned. “Voldemort’s too arrogant not to leave his own mark. How could they possibly think it was him?”

"Gabriel," Hermione hissed. " _ Obviously  _ they don't want to scare people by saying that on top of Vo -  _ Voldemort  _ there might be someone else running around doing the same thing! People would panic! They might suspect something, but they're not going to put it in the  _ Prophet!" _

"Al _ right,  _ then." Gabriel grumbled, slouching slightly.

Hermione huffed before turning back to the newspaper again, most likely to finish the article. "Hm. That's odd."

"What is?" Michael questioned before Gabriel could.

"This says that they found a sort of 'yellow powdery substance' all over the place," Hermione read, not noticing the two archangels sitting across from her stiffen.

"Did they find a bad smell?" Michael asked conversationally.

Hermione dropped the paper. "How did you guess  _ that?"  _ She demanded, staring at nem in shock.

Ne pressed nir lips together. "Lucky guess."

"No way that was a guess." Over the course of six years spent in Gabriel's company, Hermione seemed to have developed a remarkable talent for telling when someone was trying to bullshit her. "Michael, come on."

Michael sighed, leaning forward again, and Hermione mirrored the action. "Memory loss isn't a side effect of the Imperius," Ne began, "But it is a side effect of being possessed."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You think an  _ angel-" _

"Excuse me?" Gabriel said indignantly. " _ No.  _ We have enough class and morals not to go around doing things like this, thank you."

"What he means is," said Michael, throwing Gabriel a pointed look that he ignored, "Is that it was probably a demon."

Hermione stared, wearing a  _ you've-got-to-be-kidding  _ expression. "Demons are real?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"So what are they doing with Voldemort?" Hermione asked, looking confused.

"They aren't, not necessarily," Michael replied, shrugging. "It could be an isolated incident."

"Demons do this for fun," Gabriel chipped in. "Maybe they stumbled across a wizard on accident, but most likely it wasn't motivated by anything." But it was very,  _ very  _ strange for them to be showing up in this universe.

Hermione looked slightly revolted. "That sounds horrifying. Are they difficult to defeat?"

Gabriel frowned momentarily, confused by what seemed like a topic shift. "Not really. Most of them are pretty far below my level."

"Oh, so it's easy then."

Gabriel was definitely missing something here.

"What's easy?" He asked when it became clear that Michael was not going to voice the question they were both thinking.

Hermione looked up, brows wrinkled in confusion and meeting two confused faces. "Defeating them, of course," She said, before hesitating. "You...do make sure demons don't do things like this, right?"

Well, crap. And Gabriel had just made up with her, too.

"Don't look at me." Gabriel leaned away, distancing himself from the conversation and oncoming storm as much as possible. "I haven't been that involved with Heaven's business in ages."

Hermione frowned at that, but turned towards Michael expectantly. The latter looked like ne knew exactly what Hermione's reaction was going to be.

"Generally," Ne said slowly, "Heaven doesn't interfere with what happens on Earth."

It took a moment for Hermione to process what ne meant.

"Are you telling me-" The newspaper crinkled and was flattened on the table as Hermione stabbed a finger at the article, "That you don't do  _ anything  _ about things like this?"

"Demons aren't usually a big enough worry-"

" _ Not a big enough worry?  _ They're  _ killing  _ people!" Hermione looked incredulous.

Michael didn't have an immediate answer for that, looking conflicted, and Gabriel knew why. A human conscience mixed with the justifications Michael must have had before? Not a great combination if ne was trying to win an argument.

"You don't even have an excuse!" Hermione, unlike Gabriel, had no such insight into Michael's mental workings, and seized upon the opportunity. "I can't  _ believe _ you!"

"Hermione-" Michael attempted to interrupt, which never turned out well for anybody.

Hermione folded the newspaper with more force than was strictly necessary, throwing it at Michael. "I thought you were supposed to be the good guys," she said angrily. "Maybe being an angel changed you more than I thought."

Oh, that was  _ low. _

Hermione was storming away and didn't notice Michael's hands leaving indentations on the table. Gabriel would have preferred not to notice, too, but it was hard to ignore when Michael was sitting right next to him, wings pressed tight and ashamed to nir back.

"You're going to tell me I deserved that," Michael said quietly.

"No, I'm not." Gabriel said flatly, before he got up and left the table too. There was only so much stuff like this he could take in one day.

* * *

 

Unfortunately, the matter was not laid to rest there.

"Two more attacks with a weird smell and the person remembering  _ nothing _ ." Hermione was staring pointedly over the newspaper. "One of the attacks doesn't even have a perpetrator - they just vanished."

Gabriel pretended to be absorbed in a book he'd picked at random out of the library, while Michael appeared to be reading the front page in avid interest.

"Don't pretend you're not paying attention to me!" Only Hermione could get the attention of two archangels so quickly.

"What do you want us to do about it?" Gabriel asked, one eyebrow raised. "We can't predict when they'll be attacking someone."

"You could find them, couldn't you?" Hermione asked, slamming the newspaper down again. She was less willing to let the subject go than Gabriel had expected (not that he'd really expected her to be willing at all).

"Find one demon?"

"You don't know it's one. These attacks occurred almost at the same time."

"It could be just one." Gabriel shrugged. "There's no way to-"

"I  _ really  _ doubt that,  _ Gabriel."  _ Hermione whispered the name so furiously that it was practically an inaudible hiss. "You haven't done anything! I really thought that maybe you had just gone off on your own when I wasn't looking but - you can't seriously say that you're okay with this!"

"You're saying you think I am?" Gabriel asked shortly, fed up with the entire discussion. Just because he wouldn't drop everything to up and go track down one demon?

Hermione pressed her lips together, but didn't look like she regretted her words. "I'm having a hard time telling right now."

Gabriel was at a loss for words (for one of the very few times in his very long life) and he didn't reply while Hermione swept her things into her bag, avoiding looking at either of them.

He was very aware of Michael's gaze, and something inside him twisted - he didn't want pity, thank you very much, he'd been on Earth for longer than the combined ages of the ancestors of everyone in this school - he knew how to deal with a few harsh words.

But for some reason, coming from Hermione, it hurt more.

* * *

 

Michael was gone most of the day, which suited Gabriel fine, and suddenly reappeared only shortly before dinner.

Literally reappeared, in fact, landing in front of Gabriel while the latter was walking back up to Ravenclaw tower and forcing him to skid to a halt to avoid crashing into nem.

"Crash into me, why don't you?"

"Sorry." Michael pushed nir hair out of nir face. "I found that demon."

" _ That's  _ where you were all day?"

"This is bigger than we thought," Michael said seriously, halting whatever Gabriel was about to say next. He looked closely at his sibling, noting the tension that he hadn't seen at first glance.

“ _ We  _ thought?” Gabriel asked pointedly.

“Fine,  _ I  _ thought. But you know perfectly well demons shouldn’t be able to get to this place”

"What is it, then?" Gabriel ignored the second half of what Michael had said. He  _ was  _ dying to know, but he wasn’t going to say that.

"You'll want to see this for yourself."

Yes, that was exactly what Gabriel wanted. More alone time with Michael. But if there was a demon doing something more than just what normally happened when demons were around..."Fine. Where'd you put them?"

"I'll show you. It will be faster." Michael put out a hand when ne saw Gabriel's expression. "One more thing."

"What?" Gabriel asked flatly.

"I don't want this demon knowing it's dealing with archangels."

"So tone down on the angelic-ness?" Gabriel asked dryly, catching onto the implied meaning.

"If you don't mind."

"Fine," Gabriel sighed reluctantly. He was only reluctant because it was Michael asking, which logically he knew was petty and spiteful, but it was for a good reason. He closed his eyes, concentrating on his Grace. "This might take a moment - this vessel doesn't have a soul or anything to use to camouflage myself."

"Whatever you can do is fine." Michael's presence waited patiently while Gabriel let his Grace recede, pulling it even tighter into the confines of his vessel. It was constricting, but he didn't hide it all the way, leaving some closer to the surface as he constructed a sort of screen over himself. Unless it was a particularly powerful demon, it wouldn't notice anything unless it looked  _ really  _ closely - and even then, Gabriel doubted it would be able to see through the screen. He'd easily be able to play it off as personal angelic warding.

The difficulty lay in the fact that, unlike Michael, who still retained nir soul from nir stint as Michael Corner (though it was difficult to notice unless Gabriel looked for it), Gabriel’s long-dead vessel meant he had no such advantage. There wasn't even the helping factor of his last vessel, which, being an actual pagan, had masked his Grace better than he'd dared to hope it would be able to. Now, he had to rely on his own power.

"Alright, I got it,” Gabriel said eventually, and opened his eyes again. "What's so important about this demon that you don't want it knowing who we are?"

Michael shrugged, a miniscule movement of nir shoulders. "I think it would be better if as few people knew about us for as long as possible."

That was what Gabriel had been trying to do, until Dumbledore had leaked it to the entire Order. "Fair enough," he said grudgingly.

The corner of Michael's mouth was tugged up for a second, before nir previous seriousness replaced it. "Let's go, then."

Ne were gone before Gabriel could say anything, and he rolled his eyes before following the trail Michael left behind nem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel's listening, but he's still not happy with Michael. And how many of you were expecting demons? :)
> 
> Comment, please!


	61. Demons, Conversation, and Sibling Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This demon plotline is going to turn into something fairly important, so pay attention! I do have two archangels as my main three protags, so there's a pretty high bar when it comes to introducing interesting villains. I've got to throw something in there bigger than Voldemort to keep them occupied. I mean, how big of a threat is Voldemort actually? I don't think he's even on the scale. He's just a wizard with delusions of grandeur and some serious issues. 
> 
> I promise I'll try including Hermione more in these events - I love writing her - but that'll only happen once Michael and/or Gabriel get off their butts and start explaining things to her.

The warehouse doors opened with a creak, revealing an open, mostly empty space with sigils painted on almost all the available wall space - warding sigils, Gabriel noticed, layered on top of the devil's trap in the center of the room which currently had exactly one occupant.

The demon turned around and wow, okay, Gabriel had suddenly remembered the reason he'd avoided them for so long - other than the fact that if he ran into them then Heaven would take notice, but still.  _ Gross. _

"Aww," The demon said mockingly, tilting their head. "You brought a friend. Can't handle me on your own?"

"Always good to get a second opinion," Gabriel said breezily, letting his feet carry him forward as he glanced around the warehouse to take a closer look at the wards. No demon would get out - or in, for that matter. Was Michael worried about being surprised by this one's buddies? He glanced back at nem. "What did you think was so special about this one?"

Michael's wand slid into nir hand as easily as nir angel blade did, and Gabriel was tempted to raise an eyebrow, except he was still in the demon's line of sight.

Magic only - really? The wand was a very clear sign; it was impossible to take it as anything else, when Michael had been so dramatic about unsheathing it. Gabriel wouldn't have dared use his Grace - it would be too obvious - but the thought of magic hadn't immediately leaped to mind.

Then Michael flicked nir wand, the demon's sleeve slid up, and what Gabriel had been about to say died in his mouth at the sight of the familiar snake-and-skull tattoo.

Ah.

Gabriel took slow steps around the edge of the large devil's trap, thinking over the implications. Was the demon working for Voldemort, or was it a coincidence? Somehow, Gabriel doubted that either was true.

The demon had shoved their sleeve back down, and as Gabriel moved around to the back of the trap their eyes trained on Michael.

"Witches, huh?" They asked disdainfully.

"Generally, the men go by wizards here," Gabriel informed them, as condescendingly as possible - no need to be polite, after all, it was only a demon.

"I couldn't care less about what you're called." The demon spat.

"Lucky you," Michael replied coolly, "You don't need to care. You just need to answer what we ask."

"I'm not saying anything."

Gabriel laughed, and the demon's head whipped around to look at him. 

"And here I thought this wasn't going to be any fun," he said, grinning wildly in a way that he knew would probably unnerve both of them.

Michael didn't react, but Gabriel didn't expect nem to. Ne reached into an inside pocket, drawing out an angel blade that ne had physically placed in there prior to entering the warehouse, since Grace was a no-no at the moment.

The demon froze.

"Nice toy you're got there." Their posture was much warier now, and from what Gabriel could see their eyes were fixed on the blade.

"Oh, this isn't a toy." Michael flipped it around in practiced fingers before letting the hand holding it rest at nir side. "Let's try this again. We ask, you answer. Why are you possessing a death eater?"

"A what?" The demon raised their eyebrows, exuding false bravado as their posture became forcibly relaxed. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just possessed the first guy I saw. What do you care, anyway?"

"Yeah, see," Gabriel said lazily, posture genuinely relaxed and smirking at the demon, "That would make  _ so  _ much more sense if it wasn't so incredibly unlikely that this particular dude was the first guy you saw. Seriously? You pick the least plausible lie? You guys gotta work on believability. That one didn't work for a second."

"It's not a lie," The demon snarled, glaring at him, "Not that either of you would believe me.  _ Hunters,"  _ They muttered under their breath, and Gabriel grinned the wider.

Michael, however, was giving the demon a considering look, head tilted to the side slightly. "Oh," ne said eventually, more of a short exhalation of breath than an actual word. "He summoned you."

Gabriel's gaze snapped to watch the demon more carefully, seeing their eyes widen momentarily. It wasn’t even a very good demon, if it couldn’t keep a poker face under pressure.

"Summoning, huh?” Gabriel said faux-casually. “Bet that was fun." If a death eater had managed to successfully summon a demon, had he done it alone, or on orders?

"Fine," The demon spat after a moment. "I was summoned. So what? I still don't know what a death eater is."

"I find that hard to believe." Michael twirled nir blade again, and the demon's eyes were once more drawn to it. "Seeing as the person you're possessing certainly does, and I doubt you'd resist taking a look through his memories out of politeness. It seems to be something you demons...lack."

"Yeah?" The demon's face twisted (even more than it already was) into an ugly scowl. "Well you can shove that up your-"

The sentence broke off in a yell as a gash opened on the demon's leg, sending them to their knees. Michael's sword had been nothing more than a blur - there was barely any blood on it.

"Some do-gooder you are," They spat. "You're damaging the vessel. Thought you were all about saving people?"

" _ I _ couldn't give less of a shit about what happens to your host," Gabriel said bluntly, spinning on his heel to continue pacing the other way and affecting a lighter tone. "Be _ sides,  _ what a downer you are! Refusing to say anything when we're trying to hold a conversation-"

" _ This  _ isn't a conversation," the demon snarled, and Gabriel shrugged.

"An interrogation, then. Whatever you want to call it. Point is..." He swiveled around to look at the demon. "You need two sides talking in both."

"Fuck you."

"Well, that's not a very good attitude to have." Yes, Gabriel was purposely trying to piss the demon off - but how else were they supposed to get anything done?

"You've been attacking magical families." Michael raised the blade, flipping it in nir hand casually as ne spoke. "We want a reason."

The demon's eyes followed the blade as it moved, wary and watchful and most likely trying to figure out whether it was worth the risk.

"I'll make this simpler," Michael continued once a few moments had passed. "Give us an answer, and we'll consider letting you out earlier than however long it would take for the sigils on this warehouse to erode." Ne made a point of looking around. "Your friends - which you might not even have - would they really think it was worth it to break through all this just to rescue  _ you?" _

Gabriel can practically see the demon's mental gears whirring. They looked down, hands still clenched around the wound in their thigh, and then back up with a guarded expression.

"What  _ is  _ your magic?"

That...was not the answer Gabriel had been expecting to get.

Honestly, he'd expected the demon to have a bigger self-preservation instinct, because hey, what else did demons have besides that and bloodthirsty viciousness?

They kept talking, though, and Gabriel listened with a frown as they did so.

"It isn't  _ angelic,"  _ The word was said with a sneer, "It isn't demon power. And it sure as hell isn't regular witchcraft. So what the hell do you two have?"

And there lay the key of the problem.

_ Magic. _

Gabriel knew that Michael must have understood, and if they way ne was looking at him was any indication Michael knew he'd gotten it as well. Neither of them said anything -  the demon was still sitting right there.

"So you killed them?" Gabriel asked dryly, arching one eyebrow. "Seems counterproductive." If this demon was really trying to figure out the secrets of magic, then why had it killed the people instead of kidnapping them or taking some such other, more profitable route?

The demon laughed, head tilting up. "Turns out they don't know what the hell I'm asking when I try," they said, jeering as if thinking of a private rude joke, "So I figured it would be easier to take a look through them and try and find it for myself. Only problem is that magic isn't a physical thing, but I have my fun either wa-"

The demon was cut off mid-word with a choked scream as Michael's angel blade was buried in their chest, orange and yellow lightning sparking through their body and outlining the host's skeleton as clearly as if it had been an x-ray. The light show lasted only a second before it faded, the host falling backwards with dead eyes and the demon dissipating into nothing without leaving the body.

Michael wiped nir blade clean in one terse movement of nir opposite hand and let it vanish back to where ne usually kept it in one smooth movement. Gabriel wrinkled his nose at the smell of sulfur that now permeated the warehouse, taking a few steps back from the devil's trap. The demon's death had left a faint coating of sulfur powder on the ground, but none of it had gone past the edges of the trap - luckily, or Gabriel would have needed to deep-clean himself and take a shower.

He let his Grace-screen fall in the same moment, power welling to the surface again, letting out a small sigh as his wings relaxed. He was never doing that again - once was enough. Keeping his power under lockdown took a surprising amount of energy.

"There's no way there was only one of them," Michael said aloud, looking over at Gabriel.

"You're the one who went and tracked this one down," Gabriel replied shortly. "Didn't get the idea that they had any buddies?"

"I didn't see any other ones in the area, and when I tracked this one down no one else was possessed."

"You're sure of that?" It would be hard to tell in a big city like London or somewhere else.

"I'm sure. It was a small town." Michael glanced down at the host's body, as if looking at something mildly irritating and unpleasant. "The Prophet didn't say that the bodies were torn apart."

"The newspaper never prints all the information, Michael, that's one constant humanity's got down." Gabriel snorted, then sobered as he remembered an earlier part of the conversation. "So we got death eaters summoning demons now, huh?"

"Looks like." Michael vanished the body and painted sigils alike in one broad, dismissive movement, not even looking at where nir hand was moving. "Depends on whether or not he was doing it alone, but there might be more than one."

Gabriel sighed. "Damn. Just when I thought things were gonna be easy for once, now we got Voldemort trying to catch himself a demon?"

Michael smiled for half a second. "No demon's going to take a deal with him. Voldemort likes being in charge too much - whatever demon dealt with him would break the deal and kill him in days."

"If only we were that lucky." Gabriel huffed, thinking over things. "But he wouldn't make a deal himself."

"He likes power enough," Michael pointed out, but ne looked more thoughtful than disagreeable.

"Voldemort's not gonna sell his soul, not after all the crap he's done for immortality," Gabriel reminded his sibling with only a touch of irritation. He half wished Hermione were there to witness his restraint. "The whole world-domination thing is just 'cause he's outright crazy because of that crap."

"So he might be ordering the death eaters to do it for him?" Michael suggested, then shook nir head. "This is all conjecture. We don't even know if this death eater was working alone or not."

"And we can't ask the dude, because now he's dead and there's no way he'd fall anywhere except under Hell's rule." Gabriel pulled a face, annoyed that the guy had died before they'd gotten any more answers out of him. Not that he blamed Michael for stabbing the demon - he'd been about to do the same thing, pretending-to-be-human be damned.

"I doubt this demon was working with anyone else." Michael looked decisive, now - ne'd made up nir mind, and with Michael that always meant ne couldn't be swayed. "They weren't cautious enough to be listening to someone's orders - probably just doing whatever they wanted to."

Gabriel had the feeling it wasn't going to be that easy. There was no way they were lucky enough for the problem to be dealt with that quickly. 

* * *

 

"Where  _ were  _ you two all day?"

"All day?" Gabriel raised one eyebrow. "Please. A few hours, I'd say."

"You were still gone," Hermione huffed, arms crossed stubbornly. "I don't know what to think about you two! First you're avoiding each other, and then you're off doing who knows what together-"

"Interjection," Gabriel said before Hermione could finish, raising his hand partially. "I only went because I wanted to know what went down firsthand." He pretended not to notice Michael's frustration.

"Whatever," Hermione retorted. "My point is, either tell me what's going on or take me with you next time!"

"Sure."

"N - what?" Michael's head turned sharply to look at Gabriel.

"Why not?" Gabriel said, shrugging. "It's not like demons are particularly dangerous when they're like that."

"Demons? Like what?" Hermione asked sharply, but Michael didn't seem to register it - ne were too busy being indignant.

"Are you  _ serious,  _ Gabriel? It doesn't matter if they're in a devil's trap, a demon's still dangerous-"

"Excuse me," Hermione said, a dangerous edge to her voice, "But I'd like to know what the hell you're talking about that is supposedly too dangerous for me."

Michael blinked, and then suddenly looked abashed, as if for one second ne'd been Michael and had suddenly reverted to Michael Corner.

"I didn't mean to say you're not strong enough," Ne answered, looking back at Hermione. "I - demons can be nasty, and you don't know how to fight them."

"So teach me," Hermione challenged. "Did you finally go after that demon?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Gabriel replied, not bothering to comment on the implied  _ it's about time.  _ Hermione was fairly justified, in any case, so there wouldn't be any point in doing so unless he was looking for an argument.

"And?"

"And, it's not going to cause any more trouble." Gabriel finished, giving Hermione a flat look. "Really? You thought we'd just let a demon go?"

"How do you fight demons?" Hermione wasn't wasting any time, but Michael glanced around as if ne were still reluctant to tell her.

"Let's move this conversation more private." Ne suggested.

"No one's around," Hermione pointed out, and it was true - there wasn't a single person in the Great Hall, besides the three of them, and if you were counting humans then it was only Hermione.

Michael hesitated for a second more, then sighed. "Let's go outside," ne said finally. "It's something to talk over while we walk."

Neither of them bothered to argue with nem - it wasn't  _ that  _ bad outside. Gabriel was tempted to take a pass on the conversation, but when he remained sitting Hermione tried to physically tug him out of his seat, and so he rolled his eyes and went with them.

"So what  _ did  _ you do with the demon?" Hermione asked as they passed near an oak tree that was a favorite among students looking for shade during what passed as the hotter months in England.

"It's dead," Michael said matter-of-factly, and Hermione paused as if not sure whether to react in surprise or not.

"Oh," She settled on eventually.

"It's not like we could put it in jail," Gabriel pointed out, hands in his pockets and posture relaxed, which belied his inner tension. Hermione and demons, contrary to his outward decision, were not two things he would have liked to mix, but who was he to say she couldn't? "Human guards would be the only trustworthy kind, and they wouldn't last a second against a really determined demon."

"Why not?" Hermione asked. "Isn't there some way you could limit their power?"

"Technically yes." Gabriel admitted. "But other demons could break in and break those traps, because again, nothing would be stopping them from breaking in. Except other demons, but no one smart enough would trust demons that much."

Hermione was frowning, but in a thoughtful way - she didn't seem immediately horrified by the fact that they'd killed a demon. "So what happened? How'd this demon get here? I mean, I got the idea that you were surprised a demon was messing with wizards."

"Some idiot summoned it." Gabriel replied.

"Just some random person?"

"Well," Michael said, reluctance edging nir voice. "No, actually."

Hermione waited for nem to finish, but Michael didn't seem inclined to do so. Gabriel sighed. "Death eater."

" _ What?"  _ Hermione spun around to face him, eyes wide, and stopped walking. " _ Death eaters  _ are summoning  _ demons?" _

" _ One  _ death eater did," Gabriel corrected her. "There's no way of knowing whether more of them do, unless more demons start showing up."

"And you didn't ask him to find out?" Hermione demanded.

"The demon wouldn't have told us, and that's the only one we were talking too," Gabriel replied easily. "There's no way a demon would have been nice enough to let us talk to the vessel just 'cause we asked them."

Hermione pursed her lips, crossing her arms and staring at the ground, lost in thought. "What if more than just that one are summoning them?" She asked abruptly.

Gabriel grimaced. "We'd have a gigantic mess on our hands."

"It's not like there aren't enough of us to fight whoever might get summoned," Michael interjected.

"I'm not talking about numbers," Gabriel retorted, taking a few steps farther along the lakeside. "My problem is, how did he even get his hands on a summoning ritual?"

"Are they usually difficult to find?" Hermione questioned.

"It depends," Michael answered. "Here, though, it doesn't seem like there have been  _ any  _ demons around - until now, at least. So summoning rituals wouldn't be lying around, no matter where you looked."

"Unless there have been demons here before, of course." Gabriel shrugged.

Hermione nodded. "And it's not like you can go that far back and check."

"Technically, we could," Michael admitted, "But it would be a lot of effort for just this one problem."

Hermione stared at nem. "You can travel in time?" She demanded.

"Yep." Gabriel popped the p. "Fairly easily, but I haven't done it in, maybe..." He stopped to consider it. "Let's say the last few millennia? Something along those lines."

Hermione ignored the reference to his age. "What happens if this turns out to be bigger than you thought?"

Michael made a face. "If it comes to extremes, we'll use extremes. But for now it's been taken care of."

The mostly silent (and quite frankly too serious for Gabriel's tastes) moment was broken when Michael tilted nir head, frowned, and said "Balthazar's been looking for you, apparently."

"What?" Gabriel said, and Hermione’s brow furrowed.

"Who are you talking to?" Hermione asked.

"Gabriel." Michael raised nir eyebrows as ne looked at Gabriel. "You cut yourself off?"

Gabriel made a face at nem and didn't deign to give a reply. "What's he want?"

"Oh-" Hermione looked as though she'd just made a breakthrough. "It's your telepathy thing, right? Angel radio? You can turn that off?"

"Yes to all three. What's Balthazar want?" Gabriel repeated his question to Michael, after answering Hermione.

"I don't know. He's just been trying to talk to you." Michael paused. "He sounds like he could use whatever help he's asking for."

Worry wormed its way into the back of Gabriel's mind - Balthazar was at his house, presumably, so what could have gone wrong there? The place was covered in so many wards that no one could step past the fence without Gabriel knowing - or his approval.

He was standing outside the gates of his house in the next second.

The wards were fine, perfectly undamaged and exactly as he'd left them, so Gabriel's next step took him into the house and right next to Baltahzar, who spun to face him.

"What's so important?" Gabriel demanded. Nothing  _ seemed  _ wrong, but he didn’t see any of the kids.

"Oh good, you did hear me." Balthazar looked more relieved than Gabriel had ever seen him, which wasn't making any sense. " _ You  _ deal with him."

"Deal with  _ who?  _ I'm not gonna up and come every time you feel like taking a break, you know." Gabriel didn't have any qualms about letting Balthazar know how irritated he was. He thought something bad had happened.

" _ Castiel." _

Gabriel was nonplussed. "What's Castiel doing here? Scratch that, how'd he even  _ end up  _ here?"

"Do I look like I know?" Balthazar threw up his hands in frustration, dropping them almost immediately. "I just found him when I was out in London and I figured he could use some, you know, help, but  _ this  _ I am not dealing with!"

"Do you mind actually  _ explaining  _ anything to me?"

"I don't  _ know,"  _ Balthazar retorted in utter exasperation. "He won't  _ say  _ anything, he's just moping around and acting like someone's just killed his puppy."

This was just getting more confusing at each turn. "And you really can't deal with this?" Gabriel asked skeptically. "It's just Castiel."

"Can't, don't want to, probably both." Balthazar scoffed in disgust. "You go track him down and then you'll see what I mean. I think he's in the living room."

This entire thing was ridiculous.

* * *

 

"Knock, knock." Gabriel tapped at the doorframe, seeing Castiel's head rise and turn to look at him. "Balthazar got fed up with you, apparently. Mind filling me in?"

All Gabriel could see was the back of Castiel's head sticking over the back of the sofa, but he still noticed the slump. "It's nothing."

"Bitch, please. Try that one again when you're not crashed on my sofa." Gabriel scoffed, walking around the couch to face Castiel. He really did look like someone had killed his puppy. "What's with the face?"

"It's not important," Castiel muttered. He was well and truly slumped - his head barely poked over the edge of the sofa, and he was sprawled in a way that looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Really? 'Cause your little misery fest is saying the opposite." Gabriel let himself flop down into a chair opposite his brother. "Bro. Come on. You're not even trying to act like you're not lying."

"I just-" Whatever Castiel was about to say next was cut off by a loud ringing noise.

Gabriel frowned, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. It sounded like a phone. Castiel looked...panicked? He took a phone out of the pocket of his coat, took one look at who was calling, and  _ blanched.  _

Gabriel opened his mouth to ask him what the hell was going on, but Castiel didn't give any warning before vanishing, letting the phone drop. Rolling his eyes, Gabriel stood up and reached over to pick it up. The caller ID made his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

_ Dean Winchester?  _ Since when did Dean give Castiel that much of a heart attack? Nevermind that, since when did Castiel leave the room to avoid answering the phone when he knew Dean was on the line? Gabriel debated over answering it, but ended up just pressing  _ Ignore. _

What a tangled puzzle.

* * *

 

The phone rang again, in the middle of a very tense game of chess. Gabriel had figured that since there was nothing he was needed for urgently at the school, he might as well hang out at home a little longer; besides, Castiel’s issue was intriguing. Jormungand had insisted on trying to learn the rules of chess, but it wasn’t going well. She frowned at the board while Gabriel leaned over to check the caller ID.

The phone had rung several times, but mostly it was just Dean calling repeatedly, so Gabriel ignored it. Castiel hadn’t come looking for his phone, so Gabriel assumed that the latter didn't want to be informed that Dean was calling. The ninth time it rang, it was Sam.

Gabriel answered it. "Sup, Winchester?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "...What is it with you and stealing people's phones?" Sam asked, voice only slightly garbled by static.

"I'm offended that you think I'd do something so criminal, Sam." Gabriel grinned, even though the knew that Sam couldn't see it. Jormungand tentatively moved a pawn. "Mind telling me why Castiel's being such a downer and your brother's trying so desperately to contact him?"

Sam's sigh echoed through the connection gustily as Gabriel moved a knight. "I wasn't actually there when...whatever happened, happened, so I don't know much of what happened. Just what I can get out of Dean."

"And I'm sure that's been a regular fun-fest for you," Gabriel snorted, watching with amusement as Jormungand squinted at the chessboard. "So? What'd Dean do?"

"Well, I don't think it was just him." Sam paused again. "Well, actually, it probably was, but I'm saying he didn't start the thing-"

"Sam. Quit beating around the bush and tell me what happened already." Honestly. How hard was it to just plain explain something?

Another sigh. "I'm pretty sure Castiel tried to talk to Dean about how they've been dancing around each other for, like, the last six years."

"Are you serious? Good for him."

"Yeah." A laugh bubbled in Sam's voice. "I was surprised, too. I didn't think either of them was gonna do something like that for ages."

"So, what, Dean panicked?" Gabriel probably could have seen that coming. 

"Basically. I don't know what he said to Cas, but he was really freaking out earlier. Trying to call Cas. Which I guess he couldn't because you've got his phone."

Gabriel scoffed. "Don't give me that tone. I didn't take it. Castiel saw who was calling and freaked, too. He just dropped it and vamoosed." Gabriel suspected he was lurking in the cupola, but he hadn’t ventured up there yet to confirm or confront his brother.

"Oh." Sam sounded surprised, which Gabriel felt was personally offensive. Who said he'd stolen the phone? Rude. "Great. That's gonna be a problem."

"Let me guess - Dean's sulking, too?"

"Well, after the tenth time no one picked up he gave up. I think he's in his room. I don't know what he's doing."

_ “Dad,”  _ Jormungand said pointedly. Gabriel glanced over the board, mouthed  _ sorry,  _ and moved one of his bishops.

"The question here is, do you really want to know?" Gabriel asked Sam, redirecting his attention again. He could think of a lot of things Dean might be doing that he didn't care about knowing, but then again, he didn't care that much about the older Winchester's personal life, period.

"I can go talk to him. How's Cas?" Sam sounded honestly curious, and a little worried.

"Not great," Gabriel related. "I don't know what he's thinking, but whatever Dean said to him, it wasn't good."

"That's what I was afraid of." Sam said. "He hasn't said anything to you?"

"I got zip on this front from him. That's why I asked you."

"Fair enough. I'm going to go see if I can get Dean to tell me what he said. Can you see if Cas will tell you?"

"Maybe." Gabriel's thoughts drifted to where Castiel had gone. It wasn't like he would be difficult to find, but hopefully he was still in the house. "He's somewhere in the area. I'll find him eventually. Have fun." He hung up before Sam could answer.

Now, where could Castiel have gone?

* * *

 

It took Gabriel approximately three seconds to find Castiel, who was curled up in a chair. Adam was there, too.

"What's up with him?" Was the first thing Adam said to Gabriel, in a hissed whisper. "He wasn't like this the last time we met."

"It's a recent development." Gabriel appraised Adam, surprised by the familiarity. "You two've met before?"

"Yeah."  _ Duh,  _ was implied, the way Adam was looking at him. "I got pulled into the mess with Sam and Dean. Of course I've met him."

Gabriel shrugged mentally. Wasn't his business. "He say anything about what happened?"

"No, he's just sitting there looking sad." Adam made a face. "Honestly, I'd like it better if he were acting the way he was last time I met him. This is just  _ weird." _

Privately, Gabriel agreed with Adam. He walked over to where Castiel was sitting, not bothering to alert Castiel to his presence - the younger angel would have known it the moment he landed. "Relationship problems, huh?"

Castiel's head shot up. He stared at Gabriel uncomprehendingly. Behind them, Gabriel sensed Adam slip out of the room. "How did you-"

"Sam called. Figured you didn't care whether I answered or not." Gabriel perched on the edge of the coffee table which had somehow been set up in the room. "So. Dean didn't react well?"

If it was possible, Castiel sunk further into the chair, posture tightening. His entire body was curled up, feet and legs squished close to his body. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I figured." Gabriel raised one eyebrow. "You know humans have a thing where they say talking about it works to make you feel better or some crap? I thought you liked all that stuff."

Castiel took a deep breath, even though he didn't need it. Gabriel pretended not to notice the waver in it. "It's-" He faltered. "Only something I should have expected."

"Expected?" Gabriel repeated incredulously. "What, you think he rejected you?"

"I don't see what else it could have been." Castiel sounded morose, staring at his knees, brow furrowed. "This isn't helping."

"No one said it would. I just mentioned that people thought it did so you'd talk about it." Gabriel was probably being overly honest, but it wasn't like Castiel's mood could get  _ worse.  _ "Look-"

"Please, just-" Castiel interrupted him. "I don't want to - to talk about it."

Gabriel might have pressed, but something in the back of his mind told him not to be a hypocrite - there were plenty of times when other people had pressed and he'd refused to answer.

He let the silence linger for a few moments, then got up. "Maybe some other time."

"You were wrong." Castiel's voice stopped him from leaving. "About Dean."

Gabriel tried for a grin. He wasn't sure if he managed it, really. "About Dean?" He echoed. "I'm never wrong, little bro - no one said how long it would take."

Castiel didn't reply, but he muttered something into his knees.

Gabriel paused, mentally wrestling with himself, then pretended he hadn't heard.

* * *

 

_ "No one said it would hurt, too." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, poor Castiel...comment, please!


	62. Christmas Parties & Secret Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I mentioned a few chapters ago that I was about to get into the main arc of this year?
> 
> Yeah.
> 
> It's about to get real.
> 
> However, at the same time I have the challenge of not neglecting the Hogwarts plotline - remember Katie? Just because Draco's been removed from the situation doesn't mean that no one's been given that job. And while Voldemort isn't visibly active doesn't mean he's not planning anything.

_ "You're home early!" _ Gabriel was only mildly surprised when a small, curly-haired figure attached himself to his leg only moments after the surprised exclamation. He couldn't help but grin down at Fenris. The youngest boy had been napping earlier and missed Gabriel’s presence until now.

"Only for a little bit," he said, leaning down to tousle Fenris’s hair. “Unfortunately.”

Fenris pouted. "Can't you stay?" He didn't seem bothered by the switch to English, making pride curl in Gabriel's chest.

"I'll be back for Christmas, remember?" Gabriel reminded him.

"That's  _ weeks  _ from now." Fenris complained, but Gabriel didn't hear any real bad feelings in it.

"Ah, you'll be alright." Gabriel took a few steps, and Fenris detached himself, padding alongside Gabriel silently - Fenris could be pretty sneaky in bare feet. "Any idea where Balthazar went?"

Fenris shrugged. "Out. Who's upstairs?"

"Castiel."

"Is he an angel, too?"

"Yep."

"Is he staying?"

Gabriel considered it. "No idea," he replied. "He came by to avoid someone, so it depends if they can make up, I guess."

"Let me guess - it's about Dean." Gabriel looked up as Balthazar entered the room.

"What gave it away?" He answered rhetorically. "I was wondering something else, though."

"What?"

"Have you noticed anything recently?"

Balthazar paused, giving Gabriel a searching look. "Anything, like what?"

"I don't know what I'm looking for." Gabriel admitted. "Something Death said-"

" _ Death  _ said?" Balthazar looked stricken for a moment, then his face smoothed out. "So you've been having chats with a Horseman. What did he say?"

"Not to let my guard down." Gabriel said. He glanced down at Fenris, who was listening intently. "It was a few months ago. Heaven was taken care of, but he seemed to think there was something else coming."

"Anything big enough to attract  _ his  _ attention is nothing good." Balthazar shook his head. "I haven't noticed anything. I'll keep an eye out."

"For what?" Castiel's voice was a surprise, and both angels looked over to see him in the doorway, staring at Fenris.

"You explain," Gabriel told Balthazar. "I've got to get back anyway."

"No," Fenris groaned, grabbing Gabriel's hand.

Castiel's head tilted. "Gabriel," he said slowly, "Who is that?"

Gabriel grinned, pulling his hand away. "Fenris," he said, patting Fenris on the shoulder, "This is your uncle Castiel. Go nuts. I'll be back for Christmas."

* * *

 

Christmas, despite Fenris's insistence that it was too far away, was rapidly approaching. Hogwarts was covered with a blanket of snow, underneath which the castle was full of festive decorations. The usual gigantic trees, holly and mistletoe, people trying to trick other people into coming under the latter with them - even the threat of war couldn't change that.

There was, however, a new element at play.

"Slughorn's throwing a party." Gabriel said dryly. "What a surprise. This has  _ what  _ to do with me, again?"

Hermione sighed. "He's asked me to make sure you'll be able to come," She said. "He's really quite stuck on getting you to come to one of these, you know. Wouldn't it be easier to just  _ go?" _

"No." Gabriel raised one eyebrow. "A Christmas party? Hosted by him? I'm honestly curious how you thought this was going to go."

"I know you don't dislike Christmas  _ that _ much," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. "Which I don’t really understand anymore, but I’m not going to ask. And if anything, you can come to keep me company. We're supposed to go with a date, but I can’t exactly ask Fleur to come with me, she’s still back in London."

"Are you asking me out?"

" _No.”_ Hermione gave him a flat, unimpressed look. “Come on, Gabriel. I'll have to ask _someone_ and if they end up being an ass I'll need someone to talk to. I never know anyone else there."

Gabriel laughed at her griping. "Just checking. You know I'm going home for break?"

"The party's before break starts." Hermione told him. Gabriel groaned. “They’re honestly not that bad! If you’ve got something against Slughorn, just avoid him. I’m sure there will be plenty of people.”

“If you say so,” Gabriel sighed. He consoled himself with the thought that at least it was a party. He liked those plenty, and it was a wizarding party besides. Who knew what kind of an experience it would turn out to be?

* * *

 

The news of Slughorn’s party actually helped Gabriel put together the pieces of something that had been puzzling Gabriel for a while. He’d been getting curious and badly disguised looks for a week or so from complete strangers in Ravenclaw - mostly girls, but a few boys as well. He guessed that they knew he’d been invited, somehow, and were hoping for a date. Some of them seemed to really,  _ really  _ want to go with him, if their flirty looks once they realized he was watching back were any indication.

Michael seemed unaffected by the party news, as well as Christmas buzz, which wasn't that different from previous years - ne was just less upbeat about the holiday than ne'd been in previous years. Ne hadn't asked what Balthazar had wanted, and Gabriel hadn't volunteered the information.

Gabriel had  _ definitely  _ not mentioned Slughorn's party to Michael, though he had a sinking feeling that ne might have been invited as well. Hopefully, the party would be large enough that he wouldn’t have to mingle with his sibling, but it was impossible to know without looking ahead, and Gabriel didn't feel up to searching through timestreams for whichever one he would end up in.

Which still left the issue of finding a date.

He was sure that at least half of Ravenclaw tower would go with him if he asked, but Gabriel didn't know any of them and they didn't know him as anyone but Harry Potter, which meant that the majority of the student body was not an option, however fit that one boy from the House Quidditch team looked.

There was, however, one good option.

Luna was staring up at a lone piece of mistletoe magically hung from the topmost point of an archway when Gabriel found her, head tilted to the side and wearing a pair of bizarre pink glasses. She was looking at it so intensely that it took her a moment to realize Gabriel was there.

"Oh, hello," she said, taking off the glasses and peering at Gabriel. "You're very bright, you know. I can barely see the Nargles."

"Can't help it," Gabriel replied, leaning against the archway. "What were you looking at them for?"

"Curiosity." Luna's eyes were soft as she looked back up at the plant. "These Nargles look a bit different, and it's always nice to get a new view of things. I thought they might be a different species."

"Maybe." Gabriel shrugged, looking up as well. "I think that's holly, though." Now that he was closer, he saw that the plant had red berries, not white.

"Hm." Luna looked disappointed. "That makes sense, I suppose. Did you come down here to find them as well?"

"Nah, never been one for creatures. I was looking for you, actually." Gabriel pointed with a flourish.

"Oh?" Luna took off her glasses from where they were resting on her head, tucking them into a pocket of her cardigan. "What for?"

"Nothing big, but there is this party coming up that I've been persuaded to attend."

Obviously Luna knew what he was talking about, because her eyes widened and her mouth rounded into an O.

"You want to go with  _ me?"  _ She seemed incredulous, to the point where part of her really didn't believe he was serious.

"Why not?" Gabriel shrugged. "You're the most interesting person I know, aside from Hermione, and she'd take it the wrong way if I asked her. Plus Fleur would probably get all territorial. I could ask a guy, but I'd rather go with someone who..." He gestured to himself. "Knows about me."

Luna was still acting like she was in shock. "You mean as friends?" She asked, excitement bubbling up.

"Sure." He knew Luna wouldn't take it to mean he was asking her out.

Luna gave Gabriel the biggest grin he'd ever seen on a human. "I'd  _ love  _ to," she said happily, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "No one's ever asked me to anything before, you know. Except for the Yule Ball, but that was you, too."

Gabriel grinned, sideways like a smirk but more well-meant. Luna's exuberance was rubbing off on him. "Humans can be morons sometimes," he told her. "Anyway, it's on Saturday, at eight. Ish."

"I've heard." Luna said, nodding. "Shall we meet at eight, then?"

"Sure. Entrance hall?"

"That sounds wonderful." She was still grinning. "Thanks!" Luna skipped off, arms swinging loose and Gabriel wasn't sure if she meant to do it, but they brushed over one of his wings like a crackle of static electricity, making Gabriel jump and pull his wings in tight.

Luna kept going, unaware of the effect, and Gabriel shook it off, forcing himself to relax.

He wasn't aware that seeing also equaled  _ touching -  _ not that anyone had ever tried with him, but even insubstantially so it was the first time someone had touched his wings in a long time.

He shook off the staticky feeling and started the walk back to the tower.

* * *

 

The hopeful looks turned to resentful glares, and by the time Saturday at eight rolled around there was practically a club of sulky Ravenclaws in the common room. Gabriel ignored them, using his wings to skim over stairs instead of just walking - partly because he  _ could,  _ now, and partly because he'd taken a little too long to get ready and he didn't want Luna to think he was ditching her.

She was waiting in the entrance hall, right on schedule, and Gabriel raised his eyebrows at her silver, ruffly dress.

"Fancy," he commented, making Luna startle as he leaned on her shoulder, elbow bent so he could prop his chin on one hand. "I feel under-dressed."

"You'll be fine," Luna said flippantly, eyes scanning Gabriel's modified suit. He'd really just snapped it up out of nothing - who kept fancy dress clothes with them at boarding school, even if they were an angel? "I've noticed that Muggles set a much higher bar for these sort of things, clothing-wise. Daddy's taken me to a few fancy parties before and once all the adults have a few drinks no one cares what you're wearing."

Gabriel laughed, taking his weight off her and rocking back onto his heels for a moment. "Sounds like my kind of party. Hermione's meeting us up there - hope you don't mind."

"I wouldn't mind talking to Hermione again," Luna said cheerfully. "She's nice, if a bit narrow-minded. Are we going down to the dungeons?"

"Guess so. It's in his office, far as I know." Gabriel offered Luna his arm. She linked hers around his elbow, making the bracelets she was wearing jangle. “Shall we?”

“Of course,” Luna said, making an effort to sound posh but mostly sounding silly. Grinning, the two of them set off.

"I was wondering," Luna said offhandedly as they walked down staircase after staircase. "Yours and Michael's wings look so different. Why?"

Gabriel was tempted, for half a second, to refuse to answer. The fact that he knew he was being unreasonable about it made him change his mind. "Well, for one thing, Michael's older," he informed Luna. "They've got more power, which means theirs are bigger."

Luna nodded - obviously she'd have noticed  _ that  _ difference. "But they're a different color."

Gabriel didn't ask how, exactly, she saw him and Michael. He didn't know how far a Seer's gaze could go, but he'd met enough in his lifetime to know it wasn't a good question to ask, even if he  _ was _ curious. "Humans get the idea that we've all got these fluffy white numbers," he commented instead. "Artists, at least. I can name maybe three off the top of my head who actually do. White's boring. We've got all sorts of colors."

"So you're like birds," Luna says slowly, "Except instead of color varying with species, it varies from each one of you to the next."

Gabriel laughed again. "That's one way to put it, except we're nothing like birds."

"How so?"

"For one, I was here first."

Luna was the one who laughed then. "So birds were based off you?"

"Maybe. You'd have to ask my Dad to know for sure." Gabriel let the thought linger in his mind, thinking about the differences. "The problem is that my kind of wings can't really be compared to bird wings. They're on a completely different plane of existence. It's like asking if going from one dimension to another is like visiting a different country."

Luna nodded again, as though that made perfect sense. It probably did - she  _ was _ a Ravenclaw. " _ Can  _ your wings exist physically?" She asked, curiosity swirling through her.

Gabriel shrugged. "Never tried to make them. It sounds uncomfortable."

Luna hummed thoughtfully, and then they found themselves standing in front of a door draped in green cloth leading into an elaborately decorated room that was far larger than any office should have been.

Slughorn's office was decorated in a way that most people might have thought was overdone, but Gabriel wasn't most people (and if anything, had an even more elaborate and ridiculous taste). The reddish lanterns cast an odd light, especially mixed with the shimmery green curtains (mixed with the occasional red or gold stripe of cloth) draped everywhere. It was less of an interesting effect and more of one that reminded Gabriel vaguely of his exploits in America during the seventies.

"It looks nice in here," Luna observed. "Slughorn's very preoccupied with his appearance, you know. How other people see him. It's probably why he invited you."

"That so?" Gabriel didn’t ask how she knew.

There was one other thing about the room - it was absolutely packed with people. There were house-elves carrying around small trays which appeared to be levitating themselves around the room, but most people were obviously guests, clustered into groups or pairs and all talking animatedly, filling the room with chatter. A stringed instrument, or several of them, sounded from somewhere in the room. There were many older people, but to his relief, Gabriel didn't see Slughorn anywhere.

"Let's get something to eat," Luna said. "Dinner feels like ages ago."

"Suit yourself." Gabriel allowed himself to be pulled over to a buffet table, plates laid out with all sorts of miniature sandwiches and such that 'higher-class' people seemed to favor. Slughorn, if nothing else, seemed to consider himself high-class.

"I wonder where Hermione is?" Luna remarked, taking a few tiny cupcakes from a platter. Gabriel took one too - it was sweet, after all. "She said she'd be here. Oh, hello, Professor Trelawney."

Gabriel turned around.

Trelawney was standing near them at the table - the room was so crowded with people he hadn't sensed the individual soul approaching. "Hello, my dear," Trelawney said faintly, eyes lingering on Gabriel for a moment. He hoped she wasn't remembering that he'd taken her class a few years ago. "You seem quite troubled," she told him vaguely.

"I'm really not," Gabriel replied. Trelawney was quite drunk - he didn't need angel senses for that; there was a cloud of sherry fumes around her.

"The signs are very clear," Trelawney insisted. "Danger is prevalent in your path."

"Sure." Trelawney may have given him an actual prophecy, once long ago, but that didn't make her a prophet - certainly not a Heavenly one, or Gabriel would have known her as soon as he set foot in Hogwarts. He turned back to Luna. "You don't know anyone else here, do you?"

"There's supposed to be a vampire here," Luna told him, and Gabriel's eyebrows shot up.

"They invited a vampire into a  _ school?" _

"It's probably because he's Rufus Scrimegour."

Gabriel frowned. "Who?"

Luna looked surprised. "He's the minister."

"Oh." So that was why the name had sounded familiar. "He's a vampire?"

"No one else believes it," Luna said (Gabriel immediately assumed the theory was a Quibbler thing), "But Daddy says he's got proof, just as soon as he's allowed to publish it. He had a very long editorial about it back when Scrimegour first took over, but somebody from the Ministry came by and said he wasn't allowed. It just shows that they don't want the truth to get out there."

"Huh." Gabriel shrugged. "Well if I ever run across him, I'll let you know if you're right."

Luna beamed at him. Odd shadows flickered across her face and Gabriel looked up, seeing tiny lights darting around the nearest lantern - fairies, he realized, and grinned at the mockery of the fairies he knew. Seeing a harmless fairy was a novelty.

"Harry!" Oh, boy.

Slughorn appeared next to the table, so quickly he might have used magic to get there. He was beaming, and wearing a ridiculous tasseled cap.

"Wonderful to see you," he told Gabriel exuberantly. "I  _ knew  _ you'd come to one of my little parties one of these days, though I did ask miss Granger to make sure you were free - oh, but there's so many people I'd like you to meet!"

"I'm good," Gabriel said, taking a cup of something red from the table and taking a drink to give himself an excuse not to say anything else. Slughorn either didn't notice or didn't care, because he didn't look at all bothered.

"Nonsense," he chuckled airily. He made as though to grab Gabriel's arm, but Gabriel neatly sidestepped and looped his arm through Luna's instead.

"Oh look," he said, "There's Hermione." Hermione was in the room, but she was on the other side of it, and Gabriel could see only flickers of her soul through the crowd. "Didn't you say you wanted to talk to her?" He pulled Luna through the crowd, following Hermione as she moved across the room and taking them steadily further away from Slughorn.

"That was a bit rude," Luna observed.

"He irritates me." Gabriel tapped Hermione on the shoulder once they got close enough. She jumped, relaxing once she turned around and saw who it was.

"Oh - hello, er - Luna?"

"Hello, Hermione." Luna replied. "Who are you hiding from?"

"What? Er-" Hermione rather guiltily let go of the curtain she had been holding protectively in front of herself. "If you must know, Cormac McLaggen's been hounding me all night. He doesn't believe that I've already got a girlfriend."

"Doesn't believe in same-sex relationships?" Gabriel asked, taking another drink from the goblet.

"No, I didn't say girlfriend, he just thinks I'm making up the fact that I'm in a relationship," Hermione huffed. She looked at Gabriel properly, and her eyes narrowed. "Are you  _ drinking? _ "

Gabriel looked down at the stuff in his cup more closely, and realized it was mead. It was different enough from what he was used to that he hadn’t recognized it. Slughorn had surprisingly good taste. "Apparently." He took a pointed sip, raising his eyebrows at Hermione. "What, like it's the first time I've ever had something alcoholic?"

Hermione just rolled her eyes. "Just don't get drunk."

Gabriel was about to tell her he couldn't when a tall boy shoved his way through the curtains. From the way Hermione stiffened next to him, Gabriel guessed that this was Cormac.

"Have you seen Hermione?" He asked, completely oblivious as to Hermione's presence.

"Nope." Gabriel took another drink, letting himself taste the sweet drink properly. "You're really gonna spend all night looking for one person?"

Cormac blinked, confusion passing over his face for a half second before being replaced with what appeared to be a default determined scowl. "You're right," he said, not really speaking to Gabriel at all, and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

"What was that?" Hermione questioned after a moment.

"Interference," Gabriel replied. "You're welcome."

"You didn't even move," Luna observed.

"I don't need a cue. It just makes me look cooler if I use one." Gabriel grinned at her. "You've never done something just because you liked doing it?"

"Fair point." Luna nodded.

"You know what?" Hermione sighed. "I'm not even mad _.  _ It'll be nice to actually  _ enjoy  _ this party."

"There's supposed to be a vampire," Luna said.

"I know," Hermione replied. "I ran into him already, actually. I've no idea why Slughorn thought it was a good idea to invite him, but it seemed like he was more the plus one of some  _ biographer  _ who was very insistent on meeting you.”

"It wasn't Rufus Scrimegour, was it?" Gabriel asked, grinning.

"What - the biographer?”

“No, the vampire.”

“Why on Earth would Scrimegour be a vampire?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

"He got turned while on an Auror mission," Luna said seriously. "Daddy found the old records and discovered that there was information missing from one of them, so obviously the Minister got turned into something else. It's not lycanthropy, or else there would be records of him buying Wolfsbane."

Hermione still looked bewildered, but this time it was directed at Luna. "No," she repeated, "It's not Scrimegour. I don't think he'd come to a party - he's sure to have a lot of work to do, dealing with running the Ministry and You-Know -  _ Voldemort _ and such."

Gabriel ignored the collective flinch of anyone nearby who had overheard the name, noting with amusement that some of them were apparently just realizing who they were standing next to.

"Even so," Luna mused, "He's probably still part of the Rotfang conspiracy."

"The what?" Gabriel faced her properly, realizing he'd turned towards Hermione instead.

"Rotfang conspiracy," Luna repeated. "They're a group of people within the Ministry trying to take it down with a combination of Dark magic and gum disease."

Hermione rolled her eyes and Gabriel nearly choked on his drink, he was laughing so hard. When he calmed down, someone else had approached their party.

"Harry, there you are." Oh, great. Slughorn was beaming, and there was a student in blue robes standing slightly behind him, as though reluctant to come closer to the group. "I was just saying - oh, but do you know each other?" Slughorn swept the student closer. "Theodore Nott - I believe he's in your year, Slytherin though-"

"Can't say we've met," Gabriel replied, glancing at the boy and then returning to ignoring him. "Don't know a lot of Slytherins."

"Ah, inter-House friendships are always to be pursued!" Slughorn said happily. "I see you found Miss Granger - in any case, I was wondering-"

"Actually, I was in the middle of talking to Luna," Gabriel interrupted Slughorn before he could get any further, not bothering to turn and look at him, instead staying focused on Luna. "You were saying?"

She shrugged. "There's not much else to it," She told him. "Daddy hasn't been able to find out much so far, but he's definitely getting closer."

Slughorn looked intrigued. "What was your last name again?" He asked, seemingly forgetting about Theodore Nott.

"Lovegood."

"Ah, the Quibbler!" Slughorn's interest faded. Luna just smiled at the fact that he'd recognized the name. "A very...interesting paper. I can't say I've read it."

"Not many people do," Luna replied. "At least, not many at Hogwarts. We get a fair few subscribers, really."

"Apologies for interrupting this...fascinating...conversation," said a voice dryly behind them. It was Snape, whose eyes lingered on Gabriel warily for a second before he turned to Slughorn. "I need to borrow my student for a moment."

"Oh come off, Severus, it's the holidays!" Slughorn boomed jovially. 

Snape remained impassive. "Nonetheless, I need to speak to him." 

Nott shook of the hand that Snape tried to put on his shoulder, stepping backwards. "I'm fine, professor." He tried to play it off as polite, but Gabriel narrowed his eyes at the forced feeling and the mix of coldness and disdain that a sixteen-year-old couldn't hide.

"Your  _ grades  _ are not," Snape retorted. "With me, Nott. I would like to speak to you privately."

Nott's face didn't change, but Gabriel got a very clear impression of exactly what he wanted to say. Gabriel turned away, ducking farther away from the crowd and knowing that Hermione and Luna had followed.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked as Gabriel leaned up against the edge of an alcove, knowing that no one would be paying attention to them back there.

"There's something else up with Snape and that kid," Gabriel said, nodding to where the door was - they were already on their way out. "I want to find out what, but I don't want to look like I'm zoning out in the middle of that crowd. Give me a second here."

The pair had set off along the hallway outside Slughorn's office, ducking into an abandoned classroom. Even if Gabriel had been physically closer, he doubted they would have noticed anyone eavesdropping.

"You are being sloppy." That was Snape, standing a few feet away from Nott.

"It wasn't," Nott snapped back. "I planned it out. I don't see where you come in, here. It's  _ my  _ assignment."

"You are a boy," Snape growled. "You cannot possibly think you can accomplish this on your own-"

"What if I do?" Nott demanded. "I  _ can.  _ I've been planning. No one suspects me-"

"That will only last for so long!"

"You're only worried I'll do it and overshadow you!" That made Snape shut up, and Gabriel frown. This was a death eater thing, then. Had Nott really been recruited so young? Nott continued when Snape didn't immediately speak. "You're worried that you'll lose all the fame that being Dumbledore's spy gets you-"

"You will treat me with respect."

"When you deserve it!" Nott was getting braver. "He may think you're worth it, but I don't. He gave  _ me  _ this assignment."

"You fool, your father failed at his task and got himself killed to boot. This isn't a reward. He is  _ hoping  _ that you fail."

"You think I don't know what he thinks of my father? What  _ you  _ think?" Nott demanded. "I'll prove all of you wrong. I'm  _ going  _ to succeed where he failed -  _ and  _ at the task I've been given."

"You're a fool," Snape said softly. "You were  _ feet  _ away from a pagan god, one who has openly shown that he is against the Dark Lord. Doubtless he already knows of your assignment. How could you possibly think that was a good idea?"

"He didn't do anything. He barely even looked at me."

"He's spent six years pretending to be nothing more than a mediocre wizard, you idiot boy. Do you think simply knowing what the Dark Lord is planning will make him break that disguise?" Snape sounded disdainful to the extreme. "In front of a crowd, no less."

"I didn't-"

"Think? No, obviously not."

Gabriel stretched his awareness further, poking at their minds with the lightest touch. There was nothing in their surface thoughts - Snape was angry (and worried, but not about Nott) while Nott was filled with a mix of pride and a steely determination to do whatever it was he was supposed to be doing.

What was it...?

Gabriel prodded further into Nott's mind, seeking his train of thought, and snapped back hurriedly when Nott's head moved sharply.

He'd sensed the intrusion?

"What?" Snape said irritably.

"You're trying to read my mind!"

"I'm not even looking at you, how could I-" Snape stilled, seemingly reaching a confusion. "Get out."

"What?"

" _ Leave.  _ We'll finish this conversation later."

Gabriel, realizing that he wouldn't be able to take any more of their thoughts without being noticed, withdrew.

The bright light and noise of Slughorn's party was almost a shock when he grounded his senses in his vessel again, blinking open his eyes. Luna was staring at him intently, and curiously.

"That looked odd," she said. "What did you find out?"

"Nothing good," Gabriel replied. He had a funny feeling he'd just found out who was behind the cursing of Katie Bell.

* * *

 

He didn't mention it - for one, he wanted to be sure, and for another, Hermione would most likely insist that they tell Dumbledore.

Call him paranoid, but Gabriel didn't trust Dumbledore. Was he a powerful, 'good'-allied wizard? Yes. Was he trustworthy? No. Not only had he told the entire order about Gabriel, but there had been something about him the last time they spoke that made Gabriel think that however much he was being told, there was still more that Dumbledore wasn't letting him know.

He was, however, attempting not to let that bother him. Much.

The train ride back to London for break passed quickly. Gabriel did not seek out Hermione (who would no doubt be with Michael as well), but sat with Luna instead, who had opted to sit with Ginny and Neville. Gabriel didn’t know them that well (or at all, in the case of Neville), but they made nice enough conversation and didn’t try to poke and prod at him for his thoughts, which Gabriel appreciated. Ginny told stories of Quidditch mishaps at home and at school, and Gabriel wondered what she thought of her ex turning out to be an angel. He didn’t ask.

When the train pulled into King’s Cross, Gabriel skipped the disembarkment and spread his wings. They were healing well and had been ever since he and Michael had opened the gates of Heaven, and so there was barely a twinge of pain as he took off and landed neatly back home in the kitchen.

"Faðir!" Jormungand was the first one to notice he was there, spinning around and hopping down from her chair.

"What, did you forget I was coming?" Gabriel didn't move as Jormungand crashed into him, grinning at Adam. "What were you doing, making cookies?"

"It's Christmas," Adam offered, moving to cut out another shape from the dough flattened on the counter. "Almost, anyway. It's a tradition."

"Cookies are a tradition I can get behind." Gabriel fake-groaned as Jormungand tried to get him to pick her up, giggling. "Geez, kid, how many of those have you been eating? Has Adam been cooking for you the entire time I've been gone?"

"He's better than Sigyn," Jormungand told Gabriel. Gabriel’s smile didn’t waver at the reminder of their usual caregiver. It still rankled a little that she was around more often than he was, though he didn’t blame her for it, only his obligation to Hogwarts.

"She left already, didn't she?" Gabriel asked - despite last year, Sigyn still tended to leave whenever he came home.

"Yeah." Jormungand clambered back onto his stool, reaching for a bottle of sprinkles. "She says she likes being able to do other stuff."

"She's got the right," Gabriel mused, taking another bottle himself. "Mind if I help out?"

"It's your house," Adam said. "Go ahead."

"Sure, but they're your cookies." Gabriel glanced at the oven. "I spy more over there."

"Yeah, that was the first batch. Fenris got bored after we put them in the oven and ran off somewhere." Adam got up and bent down to peer through the glass of the oven door. "You should go find him - he'll be glad to see you're home."

"Nah, I think I'll indulge myself a little first." Adam probably thought he meant the cookies, but really Gabriel was just enjoying being able to have a sort of domesticity in his life.

He'd forgotten how much he'd missed this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit longer than usual. Comment and enjoy, please!


	63. Home and (Winchester) Family Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been saying 'we're really getting into the thick of this arc' for a while, but I mean it!!! And I'm not sure whether these notes actually get read, so it bears repeating. And there's a lot of stuff to think about! I don't want to rush it and I also want to be able to match it with the amount of attention I need to pay to Voldemort - he hasn't been doing a lot in this 'verse so far, which I think is a little OOC. There are a bunch of baddies currently out there, and I'm giving myself the feeling that I'm not really doing enough with them.
> 
> A side note: Once I've written more, expect to see a BUNCH of stuff in Alternate Vessels and the Michael story. I'm holding off on a lot because we haven't reached the right point, plot-wise, for it to be safe from spoilers.
> 
> Reminder: Italics is them speaking Old Norse.
> 
> On that note, enjoy! And please, please, comment, you're killing me with only two or three per chapter!

Gabriel woke up surrounded by several warm weights and someone's head resting on his stomach.

It took him barely any time at all to reorient and realize it was Fenris using him as a pillow, and Slepnir's hair on his face - the latter's ponytail must have come undone during the night. All three of them appeared to be dead asleep, the only noise in the room being steady, quiet breathing.

Slepnir was facing him, as it turned out, and sporting a serious case of bedhead. Gabriel had to struggle not to laugh. He managed to move one hand far enough to brush some of it out of Slepnir's face, making the boy scrunch up his nose.

Whoops.

What a light sleeper.

Slepnir's eyes blinked open, still fuzzy with sleep. He made a disgruntled, sleepy noise, pressing himself into Gabriel's side and throwing one arm over his chest.

"Sorry," Gabriel whispered. Slepnir made another groaning noise and smushed his face into Gabriel's arm.

_ "It's too early," _ he muttered.

_ "I didn't mean to wake you up." _ Gabriel said quietly, trying not to disturb anyone else.

"Mmmh." Slepnir rolled over, letting one arm rest over his face, then frowned and moved to look at Gabriel properly.  _ "When did you get home?" _

_ "Last night." _ Jormungand, as it turned out, had stayed up late with Adam making the cookies, and the other two boys had already been asleep once Gabriel was reminded that parents generally didn't approve of late nights (courtesy of Adam, who had pointedly commented on it, although Gabriel got the feeling it had been more for Jormungand and not him).  _ "You have two weeks with me." _

_ "Only two?" _

_ "I know, it's bad luck." _

_ "It isn't bad luck if you leave on purpose," _ Slepnir said petulantly, correcting Gabriel with no small amount of smugness.

_ "It is if I have to do it." _ Gabriel pulled Slepnir closer, giving him a one-armed hug and grinning. Slepnir wiggled in Gabriel's hold, pushing him over on the bed and making Fenris fall off of Gabriel.

_ "Hey," _ Fenris complained, without opening his eyes.

_ "Sorry." _ Slepnir looked only mildly apologetic.

Fenris's loud protest meant that Jormungand had woken up as well, sitting up and rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He blearily glanced at the windows, wincing at the sunlight.

_ "Now that we're all awake," _ Gabriel said conversationally,  _ "We might as well have breakfast." _

_ "Yeah!" _ Slepnir jumped up instantly, making the mattress bounce and Gabriel laugh at his excitement.

_ "Don't try to keep it in or anything," _ Gabriel teased, sitting up as well to grab him around the waist before he stepped on Fenris. 

Jormungand tugged at Gabriel's shirt. "Pancakes," he muttered.

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

 

Vali was already in the kitchen when they came down. He didn't look at all surprised. "I thought you'd be down eventually."

"Pancakes," Jormungand repeated.

Vali snorted, but he stood up and moved towards the pantry. "Again?"

"You can't get tired of pancakes," Slepnir pointed out as if it were obvious.

"You three would know," Vali said teasingly. "It's the first thing he says almost every morning," he added to Gabriel, moving towards the stove with a box in hand. Gabriel assumed it was pancake mix.

"You like pancakes, huh?" Gabriel asked, looking down at Jormungand

"Vali makes really good ones," was the only explanation Jormungand offered. He took a seat at the table, and Fenris took the chair next to his, tall enough now that he didn’t need to haul himself up into it. Gabriel realized with a start that Fenris had grown significantly since Gabriel had first gotten him back. Had it been that long already?

"I'll take your word for it." Gabriel glanced around, seeing that the baking trays from the previous night were still on the counter, stacked haphazardly. "Adam's not up?" He'd pegged the younger Winchester for an early riser.

Vali just shrugged. "I'm always the first one up. Everyone else likes sleeping."

"And you don't?"

"It's just sleeping."

_ "He's weird," _ Fenris muttered, making Gabriel stifle a snort and Vali turn around to face them.

"Hey, no insulting the chef. He who makes the food controls it," he warned, pointing a spatula at Fenris.

"I'll get Slepnir's pancakes," Fenris retorted.

"No!" Slepnir looked alarmed, scooting away from Fenris. Gabriel just grinned at the friendly bickering.

The smell of pancakes cooking must have attracted Narvi, because he poked his head into the kitchen a few moments later. "Ah, I should have known." He dropped into one of the only free chairs, propping his feet on the other one. "Are you going to be done soon?"

"If you want pancakes that badly then you can help, you freeloader," Vali retorted.

"Me, a freeloader?" Narvi put his hand over his heart in mock offense, making Slepnir giggle. "Never."

"You liar. You're still mentally stuck on the beat generation." Vali slid a plate over to the table without moving from the stove - an impressive feat of magic, since the table was a few feat away, but so casually done that Vali made it look like some humble everyday trick. Gabriel wondered who had taught him.

"The beat generation was amazing, you're just still mad that Kerouac liked me more-"

"Oh,  _ please." _

"The  _ beat  _ generation?" Gabriel had to mentally rewind before he recognized the name. "What, those hipster writers in the fifties in America?" It was odd to think that he'd been in the same country as the twins for possibly an entire decade and they'd  _ never  _ crossed paths.

Narvi looked almost scandalized, but Vali just laughed. "I  _ told  _ you they were hipsters," he said smugly. "And you still are."

"There's nothing wrong with trying to be  _ unique,"  _ Narvi protested.

"You're not trying to be unique," Vali said dryly, "Your sense of what's popular just stops in 1950."

"You don't  _ look  _ like you're from 1950," Jormungand said through a mouthful of pancakes. Someone, at some point, had retrieved the syrup from wherever it had been (Gabriel hadn't known they had syrup  _ or _ pancake mix). "I've seen pictures. They had really pretty skirts."

"That was the girls, mostly." Narvi shrugged. "I was never into that much. Skirts are pointless."

"If you're talking about me, I hope you're not." Hel - who, as she often was, was wearing a skirt - swept into the kitchen, glancing at where Vali was turning off the stove with a sizable stack of pancakes on a plate. "Again?"

"By popular request." The plate was moved to the table and Vali shoved his twin's feet off the only unoccupied chair to sit down. Hel took a seat on one of the stools at the counter, which must have been installed at some point during Gabriel's absence.

"It's nice to see you again," she said to Gabriel, who grinned back.

"Been having fun while I wasn't watching?"

"I  _ really  _ doubt you'd have cared even if you were here," Narvi said. "Nothing big happened."

"You almost set the couch on fire," Jormungand said.

"It wasn't  _ almost,"  _ Fenris objected. "It was  _ definitely  _ real fire."

Narvi sputtered, but Gabriel laughed. "Why is it always the  _ couch?"  _ He asked.

"That thing's hideous," Vali offered. "Honestly, I almost didn't put it out."

"Blame Balthazar for that."

"Oh believe me, I do." Vali rolled his eyes. "I've tried to change it, but someone keeps changing the pattern back."

"I thought we were doing a game," Fenris said with a completely innocent face. Vali stared. Gabriel laughed again, bending down to hug Fenris.

It was good to be home.

* * *

 

Adam appeared out of his room later in the day, and either he was bored or something else was up, because he was pretty clearly moping around. Gabriel had never been that great with the intricacies of human emotion.

"Hey, Winchester!"

Gabriel saw Adam stop abruptly. When he turned around, he didn't look particularly happy. "My last name's Milligan," he said.

Gabriel shrugged. "Whichever. Adam. You're not gonna have any of the cookies you made?"

Adam's mouth flattened slightly. "Not in the mood."

" _ You  _ made 'em." Gabriel frowned at the boy. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," Adam said sharply, and then looked suddenly apologetic and fidgeted nervously. "I mean - I'm just used to spending Christmas with my mom, that’s all."

Gabriel gave Adam a long look, putting his feet down from where he'd propped them on a chair. He was aware that Adam didn't have any surviving  _ immediate _ family; the 'perks' of being related to the Winchesters, however distantly.

"It's not important-"

"Yes, it is."

Adam stopped short, obviously not having expected the immediate reply.

"I could always call up your brothers, you know," Gabriel offered, trying to play it off as no big deal. "They may be annoying-"

"Why?" Adam look bewildered. "I - it just doesn't-"

"Seem like something I'd do?" Gabriel finished dryly, making Adam look even more awkward.

"Well-"

"No, you're right. Normally I wouldn't." Gabriel got up, hands in his pockets.

"Then..." Adam looked at him askance, trailing off leadingly.

"I get it, alright?" Gabriel shrugged. "I know what it's like."

Adam seemed to immediately understand what Gabriel meant. "You've got a family, though," he said.

"I did sort of just get them back."

"Back? From where?"

Gabriel's chilly look made Adam wisely back off. He rubbed at his neck, obviously thrown off balance. 

"I'd like that, I guess" Adam said quietly. "If you called them, I mean."

"Cool." Gabriel clapped his hands together, then as an afterthought took a cookie off the plate and chucked it at Adam. Adam nearly didn't catch it.

"What was that for?" He huffed, giving Gabriel an incredulous look.

"It's Christmas. Eat it."

"You're like a million years old, and you're going around throwing cookies at people? Nice.” But Adam broke off a piece of the cookie and ate it anyway.

"No one ever said age had to do with maturity." Gabriel flashed Adam a grin. "And if they did, they're wrong."

* * *

 

"Yo, Cassie."

Castiel frowned. "What kind of nickname is that?"

"Cas is already taken. I'm improvising." Gabriel leaned nonchalantly against the doorway. "Feel like helping me out with something?"

Castiel's frown didn't lessen. "Helping you with what?"

" _ Well,  _ helping me help Adam, which would fit in perfectly with that thing you're got where you like the Winchesters-" Gabriel paused at Castiel's flat stare. "Alright, fine, not the best way to convince you. C'mon, you owe me one."

Castiel still looked doubtful. "What exactly are you planning to do to him?"

"Nothing  _ to  _ him. You've got such a bad opinion of me." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "No idea why. It'll be fun, I promise." He was already reaching for Castiel's arm, giving his brother no time to protest.

Gabriel had no trouble dragging Castiel with him between worlds, and the latter stiffened as soon as they landed.

"Cas?" Sam stood up hurriedly. "Uh - Gabriel?" The bunker was empty of anyone save Sam, as far as Gabriel could tell without looking for anyone else using something other than his vessel's eyes. He didn't doubt Dean was holed up somewhere else.

"Gabriel." Castiel didn't sound happy. "What are we doing here?"

"I'm kinda wondering that, too," Sam said. "I mean - it's good to see you again, Cas, but-"

"I'm just doing a favor for Adam. Castiel is helping." Gabriel had already wandered away from the two of them, closer to the door. "Your bro says hi, by the way, and is really the only reason I'm here."

" _ Adam?  _ Why-" Sam looked at Castiel, bewildered.

"Don't look at me, Gabriel hasn't told me anything either." Castiel sounded aggrieved. "He mentioned something about a favor."

"You're doing Adam a favor?" Sam sounded skeptical as he looked back at Gabriel, who threw his hands out.

"Why is it that everyone's so surprised when they hear that?" He scoffed. "Like I've never done anything nice for anyone?"

Whatever (undoubtedly incredibly witty) reply either of them might have come up with was interrupted by Dean walking in. "Hey, Sam, about that lead we were-" He froze as soon as he saw Castiel.

Castiel stiffened, too, but not in a good way. He was glaring at Gabriel, as if that would do anything.

" _ Cas?"  _ Dean took a step forward. "I-"

Castiel turned away, his face a set mask. "Gabriel, I don't know what your point was in coming here."

"I told you, I'm doing a favor for Adam." Gabriel didn't glance behind him at Dean, but he didn't need to to know that the older Winchester's attention had just sharpened. "It's Christmas. Isn't that a family holiday?"

"Does Adam  _ know  _ you're doing this?" Sam asked.

Gabriel made an exasperated noise. "Is that really what you think of me, Sam?  _ Yes,  _ he knows. Why wouldn't he?"

"It is  _ you  _ we're talking about," Dean said, the reply sounding almost automatic, his attention still on Castiel.

Gabriel only shrugged. "Fair enough. He did ask to see you, though."

"He did?" Sam looked startled. "I didn't think he'd want to."

"That's your self-esteem problems talking," Gabriel replied, probably far more cheerfully than was really necessary. "Let's go, unless you'd rather spend an hour here dissecting my character?"

"Whoa, whoa, wait." Dean stepped forward hurriedly. "Cas - can we talk?"

If Gabriel had been listening to angel radio, he was pretty sure he'd have heard Castiel swearing at him profusely. "You made your opinion clear the last time we did," he said tightly, and Sam started inching towards the door as well.

"Five minutes, Cas,  _ please. _ "

Gabriel took the opportunity to close the door, since he and Sam were both outside it at that point.

"You planned that, didn't you?" Sam said. It wasn’t much of a question.

"You catch on quick, Sam." Gabriel grinned. "Would you want Castiel moping around your house forever?"

"Is that what he's been doing?" Sam huffed, and then paused. "We're not  _ going  _ to wherever you've..."

"My house?" Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "No way. I'll keep some things to myself, thanks."

Curiosity flashed over Sam's face, but he didn't push it. "Adam's alright, isn't he?" he asked slowly, following Gabriel as the latter set off aimlessly through the bunker's halls.

"Kid's fine. I haven't seen much of him." Gabriel shrugged. "Busy with other stuff."

Sam opened his mouth, then hesitated and closed it, obviously dying to ask what Gabriel meant by 'stuff'. "I just thought...I mean, who knows what he remembers-"

"You mean the Cage?"

Sam didn't flinch, but it was close. "Yeah," he said finally. "I know how nasty that is."

"Lucky he was never in it, then."

Sam did a double take. "He  _ wasn't?  _ That's not-"

"Possible?" Gabriel suggested, giving Sam a  _ really  _ look.  _ "If  _ he was, somehow, in the Cage at any point, then he doesn't remember a bit of it and managed to get out completely unhurt. That sound realistic to you?"

Still looking taken aback, Sam shook his head. "Guess not." He was quiet for a moment. "That's good. Adam didn't -  _ doesn't  _ deserve something like that."

The room the hallway they were in led to another meeting room, of sorts, or at least Gabriel guessed it was. It was also occupied.

"Gabriel." Muriel rose to her feet, looking startled. "I wasn't aware you were coming."

"I didn't exactly call ahead." Gabriel glanced over Muriel's Grace. There were traces of old wounds he hadn't noticed before, but she didn't look nearly as nervous as she had the last time they'd met. "You look better."

"I've had...time." Muriel glanced at Sam. "I've been staying here, for the time being. The wealth of knowledge these Men of Letters possessed is quite surprising."

"Yeah, apparently they had some contact with angels." Sam shrugged. "Enough to know a fair bit about them - er, you."

Gabriel made a mental note to figure out exactly  _ how  _ much the Men of Letters knew about angels. "Sounds fascinating," he said dryly. "You should probably go make sure my brother hasn't torn up half the room trying not to hit Dean out of frustration, you know."

Sam looked like he'd just realized that that was a distinct possibility - Castiel was an angel, after all. Either that, or he got the hint that Gabriel didn't want him in the room. He backed out, disappearing down the hallway.

Muriel looked nervous, so Gabriel took a seat at the table. She was still standing, giving her a distinct height advantage - even with both of them standing, her vessel was taller than his. "You seem like you're holding up well."

"Well enough." Muriel sat on the edge of the table, cautiously, as if she weren't sure how to behave around Gabriel. "Did you...want to speak to me?"

"Something like that." Gabriel replied leisurely. "I was sort of wondering if you'd left anything else interesting behind at Hogwarts."

Muriel started at the name, hands clenching reflexively. "I-" She fumbled the sentence. "You know - you've been there?"

"More on accident than anything else, but yeah." Gabriel grinned, trying to relax the situation. "Hell of a legacy you've got over there,  _ Rowena. _ "

Muriel's stare was more incredulous than anything. "You," she began hesitantly,  _ "did  _ find my letter, right?"

"About the Horn? Yep." Gabriel folded his hands behind his head, leaning backwards. "Not like I ever had any reason to use it after  _ that.  _ Why would I be mad?"

Muriel relaxed, posture slumping and her head falling forward. "That's, ah, good." Her relief was palpable.

"So?" Gabriel pressed after a moment. "Did you?"

It took Muriel a moment to remember his question. "Ah - no, I didn't leave much else behind. If you're speaking of anything other than my room." She slid into one of the chairs opposite Gabriel. "What is it like there, now?" She sounded longing.

"You could always go back." Gabriel suggested.

"As what, a teacher? My vessel's too old to be a student. Besides, I don't have any of their magic anymore." Muriel eyed him oddly. "How did you come across that vessel?"

"How'd you find yours?" Gabriel retorted. "Besides, if you tracked down the Order of the Phoenix I'm sure they'd give you an in. Just don't mention me. They're not my biggest fans."

Muriel frowned. "Why not? Surely if they know who you are-"

"They're more concerned with my vessel, honestly, considering I was undercover for a few years." Gabriel made a dismissive noise. "Humans get hung up over the little things sometimes. Anyway, if you told them you'd been around when Hogwarts was being built they'd probably hire you on the spot."

"I doubt that. There would have to be a position already open," Muriel pointed out.

"Well the Defense teacher either leaves or gets killed off every year, so I'd say your chances are pretty good."

"That...doesn't sound like a good thing." Muriel was quiet for a moment. "I don't know, Gabriel. But...I'd like to see it again."

"No one's stopping you." Gabriel pointed out.

"I suppose that's true." Muriel smiled briefly. "You were going back to that world, weren't you?"

"Yeah. Stick the Winchesters somewhere and then bail. I'm not hanging around for  _ that  _ discussion."

"What's so bad about it?" Muriel's brow scrunched in confusion.

"It's going to either end up as a three-hour manpain fest, or them avoiding talking about anything important while simultaneously trying to get to know each other." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "No, thanks."

"I thought they were brothers."

"Yeah, but the one I'm doing a favor for - Adam - only knew them for about a week. At most." Gabriel informed her. "It's not like he knows them very well."

"It sounds like it's a good idea for them to reconnect, then. I know humans value family." Muriel hesitated again, and then seemed to steel herself. "I would like to go back. To Hogwarts. Just to see it again, before I make a decision."

"I wasn't planning on making the decision for you." Gabriel stood up, pushing his chair back. "I'm sure Castiel can take the Winchesters to Adam, anyway."

"Wouldn't it be polite to let them know that we were going?" Muriel stood up as well, nodding her head to the doorway Sam had disappeared through.

"Well, yeah, I guess." Gabriel had never really been that bothered about being polite, unless he was playing a role that required it.

Muriel seemed to take that as agreement, vanishing with a flutter of wings. Gabriel rolled his eyes before following her.

Castiel and Dean were in some sort of stare-off, or else they were staring at each other while imagining making out. Muriel looked like she wasn't sure what to think of the scene. Sam just looked exasperated.

Gabriel cleared his throat pointedly. "We were going somewhere?"

"You're coming, too?" Dean looked sharply at him.

"Hell no. Castiel can grab Adam and take you wherever. I've got other stuff to do." Gabriel retorted.

"Like what?" Sam looked suddenly suspicious, glancing over at Gabriel, probably thinking of the Trickster.

"Like none of your business." Gabriel flashed a grin at him. "In any case, Castiel already knows where Adam is. None of you are allowed to stay at my house while you talk, by the way. Seeya."

Gabriel took off before any of them had time to protest, winding through space and between worlds until he was back where he wanted to be.

Sort of.

He paused when he noticed Adam hanging around central London, landing invisibly and immediately understanding when he realized the kid had picked a restaurant. He was probably waiting for the Winchesters.   


Gabriel would have left then, if he hadn't noticed the demon.

And his day was going so well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehehehehe! I think you'll guys like the next chapter.
> 
> Comment, please!


	64. Fortune-Telling Of A Sort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, more Adam! Who could ever get enough of him, am I right? 
> 
> I can't exactly write Dean and Castiel's touching reunion scene, since Gabriel isn't there to see it, but I promise I'll include as much as I can. There might be smaller stories concentrating on them in this same 'verse later on, but no promises.
> 
> And, if I may say so, let us start with some pretty awesome butt-kicking from Gabriel :D

The demon was watching Adam and didn't see Gabriel until it was too late to run.

Gabriel pinned her against the wall of the side street slash alley they'd been lurking in, hand on her throat. The demon's hands scrabbled at his hold, eyes wide and flickering black.

Gabriel tutted. "More of you," he said dryly, forgoing any greeting. "Why am I not surprised? You're like cockroaches. Getting everywhere and impossible to get rid of."

"Angel," the demon hissed, black sliding away from her eyes.

"Any more completely obvious things you'd like to say?" Gabriel asked rhetorically.

"What do you want?" The demon snapped, her expression distrustful.

"Answers, mostly. For example, what the fuck are you doing here?" Gabriel suggested. "I'd recommend you answer."

She laughed derisively. "Like it's so surprising to find a demon on Earth?"

"On this one?" Gabriel shrugged. "Just a little."

"Go screw yourself."

"You can answer, or we can skip to the bit where I smite you. Your choice." Gabriel smiled at her suddenly fearful expression. Demons always got magically smarter when you appealed to their sense of self-preservation.

"Even if I answer, you're going to kill me," the demon spat out. "Why should I tell you anything?"

"The more you say, the longer you live."

"No promises to let me go?" The demon asked, voice drenched in venom.

Gabriel's smile didn't waver. "I don't make promises I don't intend to keep."

"Yeah, well you can stuff your bargains," she spat. "A few minutes longer don't matter to me."

"Suit yourself." Gabriel could see he wasn't getting anything else out of this demon, and raised his hand to her forehead.

"Hey, angel," someone called from the end of the alley.

Gabriel turned to look.

Two more demons were standing at the end of the alley where it opened onto the street. A door creaked open at the other end, leading into some building, and a third strolled out. There was an angel blade in his hand, but the other two had nothing but their fists.

The demon pinned against the wall suddenly seemed much, much more confident than they had a moment before.

Gabriel allowed his own blade to slip into his hand. "Four against one, huh?" he said casually. "At least you can admit that's the only way you've got a chance."

All four of them moved at the same time.

Angel blade demon stabbed at Gabriel, who parried it easily and kicked him back. The movement carried him into a turn. Gabriel loosened his grip on his angel blade. It flew out of his hand and hit one of the other demons squarely in the chest. That one collapsed to the ground. His partner only stepped over him and tried to punch Gabriel.

Gabriel ducked, letting the demon hit his companion. He grabbed the first demon's hand before he could stab Gabriel and twisted it viciously. The blade clattered to the ground as the demon's head snapped back from the force of his companion's punch.

The second one reared back for another blow and Gabriel kicked him in the nuts. He bent in two reflexively, and Gabriel grabbed his forehead. He didn't waste a second before he poured his Grace into the vessel. It fell to the ground, boneless with the demon controlling it gone.

The first demon was reaching for his stolen blade again. Gabriel's foot came down on his wrist, and the demon winced. Gabriel heard bones crunch.

He kicked the demon again, making the latter slam against the wall. Gabriel pressed his foot against the demon's chest, ensuring that he wasn't going anywhere, and looked up at the first one.

"That went well," he said, a slow grin curling his lips. "Where were we?" His hand hadn't lessened its grip on her once.

"You absolute  _ bastard, _ " she spat. "You  _ killed  _ them."

"I'm honestly curious. What did you think was gonna happen?" Gabriel shrugged. "All I'm asking for is information."

"What the Hell do you want to know?" The demon under his foot spat. "I thought you  _ angels  _ knew everything. Crowley's business is Crowley's business."

So it was Crowley directing these particular demons? Gabriel didn't let on that he didn't already know that. Not that it was much of a surprise - Crowley was the King of Hell, after all. "Well, it's about to be my business," he retorted. "Unless you wanna end up like your friends here, start talking."

It was easy to summon his blade back into his hand; to Gabriel's gratification, it took barely any Grace. The demon eyed it warily, but only sneered up at him.

Gabriel changed tracks. "You two," he said, gesturing between them with the blade, "seem to think that I know a lot less than I really do. Like I haven't already had to track down the last idiot who came wandering by here."

"Let me guess," the female demon bit out. "You killed him."

"He  _ was _ a demon." Gabriel made a  _ what-can-you-do  _ face. "Personally, I don't care what you guys do. But if you come barging over and doing it here..." he leaned in. "I happen to like this place. So when I start seeing you guys messing around with it..." he raised the blade again, bloody and flashing in the light afforded.

"It's all Crowley's bloody plan," the male one said abruptly.

"Shut up!" The first one hissed. She glared down at him.

"Why?" the other demon retorted. "If I'm going to die it's sure as Hell not going to be keeping  _ Crowley's  _ secrets. He sent us fuck knows where with that daft plan he got from who fucking knows who when we  _ all  _ knew that whatever idiot got himself summoned over here was dead by now and there's  _ fucking angels here.  _ I'm not stupid!"

Gabriel used the blade to tilt the demon's head up. "Then," he said, "I'd start talking."

The demon glared up at him. "Crowley sent us after the last one," he said in a tone that clearly indicated what he thought of giving information to an angel. "He came against orders. Managed to make sure someone would summon him so he could claim it wasn't on purpose. King wanted to know what was so fucking interesting over here."

"Crowley wants intelligence, then." Again, not surprising, but how had a demon managed to  _ make sure  _ he'd get summoned?

"I don't know," the demon said venomously. "All I know is it's so hard to get here no wonder no demon's tried before."

"How'd you get here, then?"

"Fuck off."

"Have it your way." Gabriel buried his blade in the demon's chest, electric orange bursts blooming from the wound before the vessel slumped against the wall. He took his foot off, attention moving back to the only demon left.

"Changed your mind?" He asked. "Just you and me now. No need for secrets."

"There will be more of us," she hissed. "Just because we weren't here before doesn't mean more of us won't come."

"You really believe that?" Gabriel asked, letting his amusement show. "From what your friend said, it was hard enough to get just four of you over here."

"You think you can scare us off," she said haughtily. "Hell isn't that easily scared."

Gabriel grinned wider at that. "Oh, believe me," he said, sheathing his blade and leaning closer. "If I wanted to scare you off, I'd let you live so you could go back and let all your demon buddies know  _ exactly  _ what you were about to be fighting."

He let his Grace blaze, power filling the alleyway, and in the second before he smote her Gabriel knew the demon had recognized what he was.

Gabriel packed himself into his vessel once he was done, stepping away and letting the body fall to the ground. He felt more cramped than before - the downside of letting himself loose like that. It had been a bit overdramatic, but so was he.

Out of curiosity, he checked the vessels. None of them bore Voldemort's mark, on either of their arms. "Huh." If Death Eaters hadn't summoned them, then who had?

Or had they been summoned at all?

If demons could get to this Earth without being forcefully pulled between worlds, then there was some other power at play here. Something bigger than the everyday demons that had just tried to ambush him.

Was this what Death had been warning him about?

* * *

 

Adam returned much later than Gabriel had expected, using the front door and going through the kitchen - probably to get to the living room, since it had turned into the hub of the house.

"Have fun?" Gabriel asked. Adam jumped, spinning to face Gabriel.

"Holy - don't  _ do  _ that."

Gabriel cracked a grin. "Does that sound like me?"

"Not really, but I wouldn't know for sure." Adam flopped down in a chair. "It's not like I've had a lot of time to get to know you." He frowned at Gabriel, as if he'd just realized something. "What are you doing down here on your own?"

"They all banded together to watch a movie. I decided to bail." Gabriel answered. "The movie's not really my style."

"What did they pick?" Adam questioned curiously.

" _ Big Hero 6.  _ It's an animated thing. They love those movies."

"Oh, I thought they might've picked  _ Mean Girls  _ or something."

Gabriel snorted. "Are you kidding? Why would I have left if they picked that?"

"You've seen  _ Mean Girls _ ?" Adam seemed to reconsider. "No, you know what? I'm not surprised. It's exactly the kind of movie you'd watch."

"I thought you didn't know me that well."

"Yeah, well, Sam and Dean do." Adam shot back. "I just spent like three hours with them."

Gabriel raised one eyebrow. "You talked about me? Touching. And here I thought they didn't appreciate everything I've done for them."

"They didn't seem to think much of what you've done except for recent stuff," Adam told him. "You kinda screwed them over, from what they said."

"I've got a reason for everything, Adam. Just because they can't see it doesn't mean it's not there." Gabriel said, grinning. "Besides, it wasn't that bad."

"Sam said you stuck him in a time loop where Dean died every day."

"He didn't die permanently, did he?" Gabriel asked rhetorically, internally cringing at the memory of the Mystery Spot. It hadn't been one of his best moments, even though it was one of his more imaginative ones. "Well, his deal did come due that year, but that wasn't me."

"A time loop," Adam said skeptically. "What for?"

"Didn't Sam tell you? I did explain myself to him." Gabriel shrugged. "Not that he was really in the mood to hear it at the time."

Adam was still staring at Gabriel with a perturbed expression.

"Did you bring that up just to ask about stuff that happened years ago, or was there something you wanted?" Gabriel asked, and Adam blinked, leaning away in his chair.

"No, uh...I was just curious." He said awkwardly. "So...you're just hanging out in the kitchen while they watch a movie?"

"I took some time to think."

"About what?"

"Stuff. Happenings." Gabriel said mysteriously. "Thought you'd know all about what was going on, since you read the books from your world."

"When you say 'your world' it makes things sound a lot crazier than they actually are." Adam said. "I dunno what's going on. I don't have any frame of reference. The books were supposed to take place in, like, 1985. And there weren't any archangels."

"I figured as much, funnily enough." Gabriel took a seat as well, putting himself on equal footing with Adam (even though when standing, the youngest Winchester was easily taller than him). "What about someone named Nott?"

"Nott?" Adam repeated. "I don't know...I think he was a minor character. Slytherin, right?"

"Yep."

"What's this about?" Adam asked, looking suspicious.

"Stuff," Gabriel repeated. "I figured, I've got someone who knows basically everything that's happened and what's gonna happen, so might as well run some of it by you and see if it helps."

"I'm going to need more context if you want help," Adam said, shifting closer.

"Like what?"

"Look, the series centers around-" Adam hesitated. "Well, Harry, but I guess that would be you, here. I don't know what might have been changed by this taking place in a different year or you, period. What year are you in?"

"Sixth."

Adam nodded. "Let me guess. There was a mess at the Ministry end of last year where Fudge found out that Voldemort really was back?"

"Yep." Gabriel nodded. "Weirdly right on the money. What about Nott?"

"Like I said, he's a minor character. I don't think he shows up in the books much. The main Slytherin character was always Malfoy, 'cause he and Harry had this rivalry thing." Adam shrugged. "What about with you?"

"He's at Grimmauld Place," Gabriel told him. "I offered him a way out, and he took it. Saw it as a better alternative to being a Death Eater."

"Huh." Adam looked thoughtful. "I guess...there's a lot of debate in the - I mean, on my world, whether he deserved a redemption arc or not. He didn't get one originally."

"That doesn't matter." Gabriel waved the digression aside. "There's something up and Nott's behind it."

"You know for sure?"

"He's got some 'task' that I overheard Snape talking to him about. Yes, I know for sure."

"Snape was talking to him about it?" Adam's eyebrows rose. "This wasn't at a Christmas party Slughorn threw, was it?" He spoke slowly, trying to remember details he'd most likely read years ago.

"Alright, that's just creepy." Gabriel said, trying not to betray his surprise when Adam mentioned that.

"Sorry." Adam said. "But if Snape was talking to Nott about something...er...it was something Voldemort told him to do, right?"

"Again, yes. You could probably just assume you're right at this point, you know." Gabriel replied. "What's this assignment?"

"Well, it was Malfoy in the books, but..." Adam looked nervous. "Voldemort's trying to get Dumbledore assassinated."

Gabriel's eyebrows shot up.  _ That,  _ he hadn't been expecting. "And he makes a sixteen-year-old try?"

"Malfoy wasn't supposed to actually manage it. Lucius Malfoy..." Adam's forehead wrinkled and then smoothed. "Right, he ended up in Azkaban after the disaster at the Ministry."

Had he? Gabriel hadn't been paying attention. It would explain why Draco had asked to bring his mother, too. "So?"

"So Malfoy senior was pretty high up in the...Death Eater hierarchy or whatever." Adam gestured vaguely. "Voldemort wanted to punish the family."

"From the looks of it, it's the same thing here. Nott's dad got himself killed or something."

"Do you know what happened?"

"No idea. I don't pay that much attention to Death Eaters - they mostly stay in the shadows."

Adam frowned. "That...doesn't sound right. There haven't been any attacks?"

"Some. A few of them were just a possessed Death Eater."

"When you say  _ possessed- _ "

"Yes, I mean a demon." Gabriel cut him off. "Dead, now. That's the other thing I was thinking about."

"I can't help with that. The books only deal with metaphorical demons." Adam managed a smile at the joke, but he still looked surprised. "Anyway, demons aside - aren't you worried about Dumbledore?"

"How much harm can a kid do?"

"I don't know about Nott, but Malfoy did a lot." Adam looked worried. "He managed to get the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. Dumbledore  _ did  _ die."

"Seriously?"

"It wasn't Malfoy who did it," Adam added quickly, "but...it wouldn't have happened unless he succeeded. Or maybe it would have."

Gabriel frowned. "I think you're gonna need to slow down and explain things a little more. How exactly would he have died anyway?" It wasn't like Dumbledore wasn't old enough, but for some reason Gabriel doubted anything like that had happened.

Adam exhaled slowly. "Okay. So...there was an incident before the year started with Dumbledore. He was going after the Horcruxes." He glanced at Gabriel.

"I know what those are," Gabriel said before Adam could ask. "Keep going."

"There was a curse on it," Adam said. "Snape helped, but his hand was all withered." Gabriel remembered that, but he’d fixed it. "It wasn't just the hand, though. The curse was going to spread. So even if things hadn't ended up the way they were, he still would have been dead by the end of the year."

"What does this have to do with Voldemort's assassination plot?" Gabriel questioned.

"Snape knew about it, obviously, so he told Dumbledore." Adam swallowed nervously, as if unsure if he should be explaining all of this. "They cooked up this plan. Dumbledore knew he was dying, so he wanted to let Malfoy win - but he didn't want Malfoy to be the one to do it."

"Let me guess," Gabriel said. "Snape killed Dumbledore."

Adam nodded.

"Would it make a difference if I said all that is totally right, except I fixed the curse thing?" Gabriel asked.

"You what?" Adam looked flabbergasted. "Why?"

"I noticed it and decided to be helpful," Gabriel said sarcastically. "Why do you think? Dumbledore may be an old dude who keeps too many secrets, but if he dies then the wizards are in deep shit. He's powerful  _ and  _ an icon. I don't need to like him to understand that."

"You don't like Dumbledore?"

"Is that what you're gonna take away from this conversation?"

"It's just surprising." Adam defended himself. "He's sort of the ultimate 'good' guy. In theory, at least."

"Whatever." Gabriel said dismissively. "If I changed that, then it's safe to assume that there's a new plan in place."

"Yeah, definitely." Adam agreed. "But I don't know what. It's been awhile since I read them."

"And you remember that much?"

"Shut up. My point is, I don't know the characters - er,  _ them  _ well enough to guess what their plan might be." Adam corrected himself midsentence. "So unless you've got any ideas-"

"I'm working on it." Gabriel didn't know Dumbledore that well, either, or humans in general well enough to guess what the 'new' plan might be. Who knew how his feelings or obligations might change what he would do.

In Gabriel's experience, humans almost never chose the most logical route.

"What's Nott done so far?" Adam asked, derailing that particular train of thought.

"As far as stuff anyone could  _ prove  _ he did, nothing." Gabriel shrugged. "The only out-of-place event all year was a Gryffindor getting cursed."

"Katie Bell?" Adam guessed.

"That was in the books, too?"

Adam nodded. "Malfoy got a cursed necklace from a store in Knockturn Alley."

"Nott Imperiused her in this version."

Adam whistled. "That's hardcore. What happened?"

"She's fine. I didn't have a solid idea of what happened until I overheard Nott."

"But then how was he expecting to do anything to Dumbledore?"

"I guessed that she was meant to be some sort of magical suicide bomber."

"That's sick." Adam looked disgusted. "That's - I can't believe it."

"Hey, it's war. People are going to do things like that." Gabriel reminded him. "Just because we've got a safe bubble here doesn't mean it's not happening."

"Yeah, I know, it's just..." Adam trailed off. "Thinking of someone being used like that...it's horrible."

Gabriel shrugged. "Maybe I've seen too much crap to be that affected by it. As long as you don't throw up on the table-"

"I'm fine."

"Good, then." Gabriel propped his feet on the table.

"What now?"

"I don't know. Go watch the movie with them. Party away your cares or something."

Adam gave Gabriel a sideways look. "Is that what you've been doing?"

"I don't know who's been telling you stories-" Probably the Winchesters. "-but they're a biased source." Gabriel left the kitchen in a rustle of wings, settling on the roof.

Adam had said the Winchesters had told him about the times they'd run into Gabriel before - or at least implied it - but the sudden insight he'd had on Gabriel had unsettled the archangel.

Gabriel tried to shake the thoughts from his mind. He had other things to think on. Nott and Dumbledore and their respective plans, though to be honest Gabriel didn't really care about the latter. And what the demons earlier had told him.

They  _ were _ coming. Gabriel didn't doubt that. The only question was, who had gotten them to this world in the first place?

Gabriel sighed heavily and let himself fall backwards so that he was on his back, staring up at the sky. London was so full of light pollution that it was a blank blue slate, tinged with purple at the edges where it met the lights of the city. There was the occasional white dot, some far-off planet or star bright or close enough to make it through the haze of competing light. Gabriel toyed with the idea of turning off the city lights, giving him a view of whatever galaxies were visible from this world, but he eventually dismissed the idea.

He'd have to tell Michael about all this, eventually. Gabriel huffed at the thought. He wished that Michael hadn't turned out to be  _ the  _ Michael. His relationship with nem was too complicated for him to sift through; he didn't want to have to deal with this problem on top of all the other ones that were cropping up. It would be so much simpler if Michael had remained human and uncomplicated.

...And a lot harder, too, without the help of another archangel.

Gabriel knew, objectively, that his main grounds for disliking Michael held less and less water as time went on, but he couldn't bring himself to just  _ forgive  _ nem. Michael may have been sorry now, but 'sorry' did jack shit to fix the pile of problems that ne had caused in Heaven.

Gabriel wondered what would happen if Michael went back, and then abruptly dragged himself away from that line of thought. He was  _ not  _ going to get nostalgic now. That was the last thing he needed.

He needed to concentrate, because he actually liked this world and it would really suck to see it get overrun by demons. 

Why was it that there always seemed to be some new disaster? Gabriel considered blaming the Winchesters, but there wasn't any proof that they were involved in this mess - yet. Not that that would necessarily stop him. It would probably turn out to be connected to them in some way, once things started getting cleared up.

Gabriel stared at the unnaturally blank sky, and thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's Dumbledore's plan? I'd like to know as much as you guys, tbh, I still don't know what he's doing and I technically finished this story.
> 
> COMMENT, PLEASE!


	65. Incidents, Both Friendly And Unfriendly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun times up ahead, fun times. For me, at least. New characters ahead, but not 'til the end, so keep an eye out for that!

"Is Castiel gone?" Slepnir was draped over the sofa, hanging off the seat so that his head was pointed towards the ground. He had gotten a bit red-faced, but seemed determined not to move.

"Probably," Gabriel said idly from where he was sprawled out on the floor. Castiel hadn't returned from their adventure the previous day; from what Adam said, he'd stayed with the Winchesters when Adam left to return to Gabriel's house.

"Aw.  _ I wanted to invite him to my birthday _ ." Slepnir pouted, reaching down and pulling his hair into a ponytail, then giving up when he realized he didn't have anything to tie it with.

"He might drop by if you pray." Personally, Gabriel was glad that Castiel had stopped haunting his house. In a non-ghostly way, of course. He could only be around so many of his siblings for extended periods of time, and Balthazar was more than enough.

"I don't know how." Slepnir said.  _ "Does praying even work if you're only a little bit human?" _

_ "No pagan god's ever tried before, but feel free to experiment." _ Gabriel shrugged.  _ "Just make sure to use his name so it doesn't go shooting off for anyone to hear." _

_ "How does it work, though?" _ Slepnir pressed.  _ "If I just think it, how do you hear it?" _

Gabriel tilted his head up to meet Slepnir's gaze.  _ "It's addressed to an unspecified higher power,"  _ he said,  _ "Which is what angels are. Adding a name just makes it a specified higher power." _

_ "So you hear it just because it's meant for you?" _

_ "It's how we're built, kid." _

Slepnir considered that.  _ "If I'm part angel,"  _ he said,  _ "Does that mean I could hear them?" _

_ "No idea."  _ It wasn't like anyone like Slepnir or his siblings had ever existed before - save the Nephilim, and no one had been too fussed with asking them about the extent of their powers. Gabriel glanced down as he thought of that particular fiasco, wings shuffling uncomfortably, and put it out of his mind.  _ "Your brothers have more angel in them then you do, but I don't think any of you would hear anything." _

_ "Why?" _ Slepnir questioned, flipping right side up.  _ "How come they've got more angel?" _

_ "Long story." _ It  _ was - _ Slepnir's parentage was a complicated tangle.  _ "I'll tell you some other time." _

Luckily, Slepnir seemed to accept that at face value.  _ "When I turn a thousand," _ he said.  _ "Then you can explain it. Promise?" _

_ "Sure." _

"Excuse me," Balthazar said, looking somewhat befuddled. "I must have misheard. A  _ thousand _ ?"

Slepnir shrugged. "You’re old too. Everyone’s old."

“Did you forget the godly ancestry?” Gabriel asked his brother, amused.

"How old  _ are _ you?" Balthazar questioned Slepnir. Evidently the puzzle of Slepnir's age hadn't occurred to him before.

Slepnir considered the question for a moment. "It's two thousand fourteen," he said slowly, "So I'm...nine hundred and...thirty eight. As soon as Christmas happens."

Balthazar stared. "Good lord," he said. "You're tiny for someone who's been around for nearly a millenium."

"I'm growing," Slepnir said defensively, making Gabriel laugh. "I'll be tall!"

"If your dad's any example, that's doubtful."

"Oh, please," Gabriel snorted. "I'm barely shorter than you are, even in my old vessel."

"You're still  _ short. _ " Balthazar said sniffily, as if reluctant to be proven wrong. "It doesn't help that you're stuck looking like a child."

"And yet," Gabriel replied, taking on a tone as if he were revealing some great secret, "I'm still older than you."

"Not that you act it," Balthazar muttered, and Slepnir's laughter was snorted and poorly muffled.

Gabriel raised one eyebrow, propping himself up on his elbows. "Oh, I see how it is," he said, sounding falsely wounded. "You're teaming up against me."

Slepnir just giggled again. "We have to," he pointed out. "You cheat."

"Everyone in this house cheats."

Balthazar didn't even try to protest the accusation, though it was more a statement of fact. Slepnir did. " _ Jor  _ doesn't cheat," he said plaintively.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "He most definitely does. He's just good enough at it that none of you notice."

"I knew that last game was rigged," Balthazar muttered. "He's too quiet. I should have guessed."

"He's quiet because he doesn't like talking." Slepnir immediately jumped to his brother's defense. "Not because he's trying to  _ get away  _ with anything."

"Yeah, Balthazar," Gabriel said, just to be petty. "Don't be so rude."

Fenris appeared from over the back of the sofa, having wandered into the room at some point, and hauled himself up, over, and onto Balthazar's lap. "Yeah," he echoed.

"You don't even know what we're talking about," Balthazar told him with little real heat to the words.

Fenris shrugged, moving off the couch and flopping onto his stomach next to Gabriel. He pushed at Gabriel's side. "Turn over."

"Why?" Gabriel did anyway, moving onto his back. Fenris put his head on Gabriel's stomach. "Oh, you just want to use me as a pillow?"

"You're squishy."

Balthazar sniggered, making Gabriel throw him a look. "Damn right I am," Gabriel said, staring pointedly at his brother. "We can't all be stupidly skinny."

"My vessel is fine, thank you," Balthazar retorted. "Do you normally swear when they're around?"

Gabriel shrugged as well as he could with Fenris slumped over him. "They're of age. It's not like they've never heard someone swear before."

"Not in English," Slepnir said. "And Norse swear words don't count. No one speaks Norse anymore."

Gabriel opened his mouth to reply and was interrupted by a shrill, electronic rendition of the macarena.

They all stared at each other for a moment while it played.

"Did someone change the phone's ringtone?" Gabriel asked.

"Narvi did it," Fenris said immediately.

"We were bored," Slepnir added. "We made a competition to see who could change it and get it to stick."

"Fair enough." Gabriel glanced down at Fenris. "Since no one else seems to be making an attempt to get up and answer that, can you move so I can?"

"No." If anything, Fenris pressed himself down harder, throwing one arm over Gabriel. The tune played obnoxiously in the background.

Gabriel gave up and snapped his fingers, answering the phone as it appeared in his hand. "Dark Magic Emporium, here for your dastardly needs." Fenris giggled, stifling it in Gabriel's shirt.

"Very funny,” said Hermione on the other end. “I know what your voice sounds like."

"Hermione! I didn't expect a call."

"It's not like I can visit you in person." Hermione reminded him.

"You could always drop by. What'cha want?"

Hermione's exhale made the line crackle. "It's - well, it's sort of about Fleur. I...wanted to let her know about you. Being Gabriel, I mean."

That, Gabriel had not expected. "Tell her that angels exist," he said flatly. "It's bad enough the Dumbledore told the whole Order. I'm kind of trying to keep a low profile here." Balthazar had looked up sharply at the change in Gabriel's tone, and appeared to be listening intently. Gabriel made a face at him and mouthed ‘shove off’.

"I don't like lying to her, even if it's only by omission." Hermione retorted. "Why on Earth would you need to keep a low profile?"

"I don't know, because there's a war on out there and Voldemort doesn't need to know any more about me than he already does?"

"And, what, you think Fleur's going to tell him?" Hermione asked sarcastically. "I get not wanting to tell a lot of people, but she could help! Her family's big in the war effort. The Delacours have been sending in support from France. Mostly money, I think, since France as a whole seems to just want to leave us to deal with this on our own-"

"That doesn't change that I barely know her. And death eaters could get information by ways other than just telling her."

"They'd have their work cut out for them with Fleur. She may have come fourth in the Tournament but she could probably beat Krum in a duel one-handed." Hermione's voice took on a pleading edge. "Is it that important that you keep this so secret? It's one person, Gabriel."

"One person on top of how many?"

"The Order's more of a liability than Fleur is. If the risk of other people finding out accidentally is your only argument then you already haven't a chance of the information not getting out somehow."

She did have a point there, but Gabriel was still reluctant to just let Hermione tell someone else. "You don't even know how she's going to take it. What were you planning to do, expect her to just roll with the idea that angels are a thing and she's already met one without knowing it?"

"That's a stupid argument and you know it." Hermione said flatly.

"Well, so what?" Gabriel said defensively. "I haven't gone by Gabriel in ages. Excuse me if I'm a little uncomfortable with so many people knowing I'm an angel."

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment. "What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked eventually. "You 'haven't gone by Gabriel'?"

Shit. "I told you I was Loki," Gabriel covered quickly. "Can't really be an angel and a god at the same time. Most would see it as blasphemy."

"...Sure." Yeah, there was no way Hermione fully believed that, but she moved on. "So you're not used to many people knowing. That's your argument for me not telling her?"

There was another muted voice in the background, and Hermione made a strangled, distressed noise and swore under her breath. "I'll call you back," she hissed.

"Hermione-" Gabriel heard the click of her hanging up before he finished her name. "Aw, crap."

"What'd she say?" Fenris asked.

"She hung up." Gabriel sent the phone back to the kitchen. "Guess it's outta my hands now."

Fenris patted his knee sympathetically. "Hermione's okay," he said. "She'll do something smart."

Hopefully, but however Fleur might react wasn't a topic Gabriel felt like lingering on. He looked over at Fenris with raised eyebrows. “Did you understand all of it?”

“Some,” Fenris said, sounding pleased with himself.

"I could invite Hermione to my party," Slepnir mused.

"You want to invite a lot of people." Fenris rolled his eyes. "We're going to be there too!"

"You don't count. I see you every day."

"But I'll still  _ be _ there."

"Having guests who  _ aren't _ usually there is the whole point of a party!"

“Alright, enough.” Gabriel put his head on Fenris’s head. “Slepnir gets to invite whoever he wants.”

“Yeah.” Slepnir stuck his tongue out at Fenris.

“None of that.” 

“ _ Yeah, _ ” Fenris said back, mocking Slepnir’s tone. Gabriel gave him a warning look, and Fenris subdued. Out of the corner of his eye, Gabriel saw him stick out his tongue at Slepnir as soon as Gabriel stopped looking.

* * *

 

The phone rang again, still stuck on the macarena theme.

"Yeah?" Gabriel answered it, distracted by the murmur of conversation in the kitchen. They’d been in the middle of dinner, and he’d been pulled away from a fascinating conversation about astronomy.

"I told her." Hermione said. "Sorry. But it was a bit unavoidable."

"I gathered," Gabriel said dryly. So it  _ had _ been Fleur who interrupted their first conversation.

"She seemed okay about it, to be honest," Hermione told him. "The whole angels thing. She just seemed surprised that it was you."

"I'm offended by those implications." Gabriel said, completely deadpan. "How could she interrupt you on the phone? Are you in France again?"

Hermione hesitated. "Well...no. I'm staying with Fleur. She's got an apartment in the Alley."

Gabriel whistled. "You move fast!"

"Shut up! You know it's not like that," Hermione retorted. "I just thought I'd let you know. Fleur had some questions I couldn't answer."

"Are you trying to warn me that you're coming over?"

"Well..."

"Nah, it's fine," Gabriel laughed. "Slepnir wanted to ask you over anyway. His birthday's coming up."

"Oh - right! It's around Christmas, isn't it?"

"On Christmas.” Gabriel shrugged, even though Hermione couldn’t see him. “Same diff."

"No one says that anymore."

"I do."

"You don't count if you're the only one saying it." Hermione paused. "Thanks. For being alright with it."

"You kind of took it out of my hands when you hung up." He wasn't any more okay with it than he had been before, but the only other option was going back and messing with time, which he’d rather not do, especially if it involved Hermione.

"Yeah. Er. Sorry about that."

"Nah, I get it. Not wanting to lie to her. Probably should have realized you wouldn't want to keep that secret." Gabriel replied. ""Course, considering that's part of why Sigyn still hates me, I don't have the greatest track record with relationships and that particular tidbit of information."

Hermione snorted. "I'm not going to ask what you did. I get the feeling it's a long story." Well, she wasn't wrong. "Christmas it is, then?"

"Yep. See you then."

* * *

 

_ Knock, knock. _

"I got it!" Slepnir bolted out of his chair, making for the door. He'd been running purely on adrenaline and excitement all day, wound up in anticipation of his birthday.

"Good. I wasn't planning on getting up." Balthazar was comfortably sprawled in an armchair and hadn't moved since that morning, occupied with a drink and whatever he was thinking so hard about. Gabriel had noticed the thoughtful staring into the distance, but hadn't commented on it; and Balthazar had still been too alert for Gabriel to draw a mustache on him, which was disappointing.

"You don't do anything around here," Gabriel teased him. "I  _ really  _ doubt anyone expected you to get the door."

"Excuse you, I'm a pivotal part of the household."

"I'll believe that when you start actually doing something."

"Are we interrupting?" Hermione was standing in the doorway, a smile pulling at her mouth. "Balthazar, right?"

"Yeah!" Slepnir answered enthusiastically for Balthazar, squeezing through the doorway past Hermione. "And Castiel was here before, but he left."

"Who's Castiel?" Fleur had almost completely lost her accent in the time since Gabriel had last seen her. Gabriel could see Balthazar's attention perk.

"My brother," he answered, kicking Balthazar in the shin before his  _ other  _ brother could do anything stupid. Balthazar gave him a dirty look, but Gabriel ignored it as he stood up, grinning at the two. "For someone who's meeting an angel for the first time, you seem pretty calm."

"Even if I didn't know before, we  _ have  _ met already," Fleur reminded him. "It does explain how you did so well in the Tournament."

"You weren't so shabby yourself."

Fleur smiled at that. "Thank you. Though I think this would be the part where I admit I've heard of you before."

"Everyone's heard of Harry Potter." Hermione pointed out, looking puzzled.

"Of Gabriel," Fleur corrected her assumption. "There were a few girls in my year who were Muslim. I asked them about their religion out of curiosity when I was younger."

Hermione looked startled. "Really? I thought angels were...well, a Christian thing."

Balthazar scoffed in the background, and Gabriel resisted the temptation to throw something at him to get him to shut up. "We're both," he said. "But I like to think I'm a fairly central figure in Islam. You wanna sit down?"

"Only if you keep explaining." Hermione replied. Gabriel backed up to let the two of them into the living room proper. "I see your tree's a reasonable size this year."

"I didn't buy it." Hel had forbidden him from doing it and kept him distracted while Vali and Narvi went out and got one. Gabriel had guessed that something was up, but let it slide. "Honestly, no one will let me forget that."

"Because it was ridiculously large." Hermione rolled her eyes as she settled onto the couch. "What about Islam, then? You left off in the middle."

"I did not, I barely started." Gabriel retorted lightly, pulling the footrest towards him with one foot and sitting on that. "Besides, Islam and Christianity both believe in one God and most of the same prophets. It's not that much of a stretch to guess that both believe in angels."

"Well, I don't know much about Islam." Hermione huffed. "Why are you such a central figure?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Islam's based around the Qur'an - or the ideas in it, at least. The Qur'an's a written version of what Muhammad told them. I told Muhammad all of that."

"And Muhammad - he was prophet," Fleur said, thoughtful gaze telling Gabriel that she was thinking back to whatever she'd been told.

"Yup. That's the title you get when you get official Revelation from upstairs." Gabriel nodded. "I didn't stick around much after he died, but I didn't need to."

"So you told a man the secrets of Heaven and then whatever happened, happened?" Hermione sounded amused. "Is that how it always works?"

"Hey, I'm just the Messenger." Gabriel's grin resurfaced. "Anyone ever tell you not to shoot?"

"That's a horrible joke," Balthazar said.

"Shut up, you're not in this conversation."

"Heeeey." Slepnir, evidently tired of being left out of the conversation, tugged on Gabriel's sleeve. "We should eat."

"Now?" Fleur looked surprised.

"He made his own cake this year," Gabriel explained. It had been quite an undertaking and had nearly ended in disaster several times.

"Chocolate," Slepnir added. "And other stuff too. It's a chimera cake."

Fenris peeked in as if the mention of dessert had summoned him. " _ Can  _ we?"

"I think the birthday boy should-"

"Cake time!" Slepnir didn't even wait for Gabriel to finish, racing into the kitchen with a delighted laugh. Grinning broadly, Gabriel followed.

* * *

 

Gabriel caught Hermione outside afterwards, just before she left. "Before you leave - there was something I wanted to mention."

"What about?" Hermione paused, Fleur glancing behind her when she realized Hermione had stopped walking. "You couldn't have mentioned it inside?"

"It's not party talk."

Hermione caught on immediately. "This is about demons."

"Demons?" Fleur echoed, startled.

"It's a long story," Hermione said quickly, "but yeah, they exist too. What about them?"

"You said you wanted to learn how to fight them." The blade Gabriel had taken from the ones that attacked him slipped into his hand easily and he offered it to her, handle-first. "Here's weakness number one."

Hermione stared at it. "Is that  _ yours _ ?"

"Please. I need mine. I had an extra lying around."

"I don't even know how to use that."

"Stab them with the pointy end."

That got a laugh out of Hermione, and she took it, but Gabriel could tell she wasn't sure what to do with it. She took it anyway. "Thanks, I guess. Now all you need to do is teach me how to use it well enough that I don't make a fool out of myself."

Gabriel laughed, until the first howl reached his ears.

He could feel his smile get wiped away. Fleur and Hermione both looked around curiously, not realizing the gravity of it.

"What was that?" Fleur asked. Gabriel didn't answer.  _ How the hell had they even gotten here? _

"Gabriel-" Hermione was cut off when Gabriel finally zeroed in on what had been bothering him all day and snatched it out of her pocket. "Hey!"

"Where did you get this?" The coin was burning Gabriel's fingers. He ignored it. And he knew enough to realize that it was no coin.

"I don't - that's not mine." Hermione looked befuddled, and flinched as another howl echoed in the distance. It was closer than the last one. "What's going on?"

"It's a tracker," Gabriel said grimly. "A demon must have realized what you were and planted it."

Fleur stiffened, posture straightening as she glanced around. "So what was that noise?"

"Hellhounds."

Gabriel's wings were spread before he even finished speaking, taking off and bringing both Hermione and Fleur with him. The hellhound had spooked him badly enough that he went as far as he could - back to his home universe.

Both of them stumbled as they landed, and Hermione had to use Fleur to keep herself steady.

"What the hell-"

"It's not enough to throw them off, if they were that close then they already have your scent," Gabriel snapped over Fleur's startled exclamation. He threw the coin to the ground and stepped on it hard enough to grind it into dust. "Who could have gotten close enough to put that on you?"

"We took the Knight Bus," Hermione said. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere far away." A distant howl reverberated through the air, and Gabriel cursed under his breath. "Not far enough."

"We must be halfway across the city!" Fleur's wand had made its way into her hand.

They were quite a bit farther than that, which was probably why both of them had looked a second away from being sick. Gabriel didn't have the time nor patience to explain that at the moment.

"I'm fast. They're almost as fast." Gabriel reached for both of them. "We need to go-"

"I'm not doing that again," Fleur said curtly.

Gabriel didn't have the time to argue with her. He could sense the hellhounds getting closer. "Then  _ run _ !"

* * *

 

It was _ really _ annoying, having to deal with human counterparts that got tired much quicker than Gabriel did.

"I don't think we can go for much longer," Hermione gasped.

"Save your breath," Gabriel snapped back. He had to recalculate where to go every ten seconds - he could tell where the hounds were, but they weren't making it easy for him to avoid them.

"We need to stop-"

"We  _ can't. _ " And the whole time his mind was racing - who would plant a tracker on Hermione and send hellhounds after her? Because she was a witch? Or because someone had somehow discovered that she knew him?

"There's got to be a safe place  _ somewhere _ !" Well, technically, his house was a safe place, but he was  _ not  _ risking hellhounds getting inside there. That, and he'd temporarily forgotten that he had a safe place to go to.

Centuries of instinct was hard to ignore.

They raced past a street sign. Gabriel got only a passing glance, but memory sparked in his mind.

"This way!"

The streets were nearly deserted, but they still had to shove past the occasional pedestrian. Gabriel began to regret the decision when a trio of snarling beasts appeared only a few blocks behind them.

They  _ had  _ to be faster than the hounds, or else...

Gabriel wished he were alone. Then, at least, he could take a stand and kill them in seconds. But if he tried that now, one of them might be able to get away. There was no telling what kind of damage they'd been ordered to wreak.

One of the two girls shrieked. Fleur shouted some spell colored with a French accent, and there was a pained yip. Gabriel didn't look back to see what had happened. Their destination was getting closer.

The door sprang open without any visible prompting, and Gabriel skidded to a halt next to it. "In, in, in!" Neither Hermione nor Fleur bothered to ask why, and Gabriel threw himself inside after them, slamming the door shut.

The wards visibly flickered as the hellhounds rammed to a halt against it. Sigils flared into sight on the glass and glowed, holding strong. The door rattled on its hinges, but didn’t break. With the kind of warding this place had, it was no surprise.

Gabriel glared heatedly through the glass at the demonic abominations. He didn't need any cue to use his Grace; it was directed, without him moving, at the three dogs.

They noticed immediately, making distressed growling noises and doing their best to lunge away, but they'd gotten too close to Gabriel. His Grace, slowly but surely, ground their essence to pieces.

When he finally looked away, both of the witches were staring at him.

"Did you just kill those things by  _ glaring  _ at them?" Fleur asked tentatively. There was a graze on the back of her shin, and Gabriel dispersed the taint the hellhound had left behind with a thought.

"I do a lot of things," Gabriel replied shortly. He still felt like his heart was racing from the scare. He didn’t know what he’d have done if hellhounds had gotten Hermione. Had she been picked at random, or had some demon known of her association with him?

Hermione, it seemed, had finally noticed their surroundings. "Oh,  _ wow, _ " she breathed at the sight of so many ancient-looking books. "Gabriel, this is..."

She reached out, as if to take one off the shelf for a better look.

"Don't touch that!" The man appeared seemingly out of thin air, blocking Hermione from the shelf. "These books are  _ incredibly  _ ancient, they need a very delicate hand and you could at least do the courtesy of waiting for-"

Gabriel coughed pointedly. The man looked over at him abruptly, most likely having just then noticed him.

"Er." His posture changed in an instant, managing to change the man from an imposing force into someone who looked entirely harmless. His appearance didn't hurt either; blond curls and blue eyes gave him one of the most stereotypically angelic vessel Gabriel knew of. "Gabriel." He didn't sound thrilled to see Gabriel. "This is, ah, a bit of a surprise."

"Thought I'd drop by," Gabriel said. "Nice to see you too, Aziraphale."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehhh? Eeeeehhhhhhhhh? Comment, please!


	66. Angels and Witches of Various Kinds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Haha, okay, serious chapter time)
> 
> I take it from the majority of reviews left that you guys are excited about Aziraphale.
> 
> As a note, Aziraphale is a main character in a book called Good Omens - if you like Supernatural, I'd definitely recommend it. It's much the same premise as season 5, without being identical. And it's hilarious.
> 
> That said, Aziraphale will not be exactly the same Aziraphale from Good Omens. First, it would be kinda unfair to people who have no idea who he is; second, I've got my own ideas for this Aziraphale concerning his backstory and such. Which will be revealed probably in this chapter, or at least hinted at. I'll see where this goes. His character will be similar in most other respects, though.
> 
> And besides, Crowley's already a character - so, sorry to those who were looking forward to it, but Good Omens' AJ Crowley will not be making an appearance.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter

"Hellhounds, really?" Aziraphale had managed to get all three of them into his back room in a surprisingly short amount of time, producing a teapot and cups from who knew where. He seemed reluctant to take his eyes off Gabriel; no one, even other angels, could be perfectly at ease leaving an archangel to their own devices if they knew what one was capable of.

"I'm as surprised as you are," Gabriel replied, waving away the offer of a cup of tea. He'd never acclimated to the English affinity for tea, though he didn’t have any strong feelings about it either way.

"And they followed you all the way here?" Aziraphale shook his head. "Tracking you down is one thing, but following you from one world to the next is frankly a surprise. I hadn't thought them capable of it. At the very least, you should have had a day or two before they arrived."

Gabriel had wondered the same, when he'd had time to wonder about it. Fleur had taken the explanation of alternate worlds with no more than a vaguely skeptical raised eyebrow, after Hermione first asked how  _ another  _ angel had ended up on her world and then been informed they were back on the one that Gabriel had originally come from.

"But why were they after us?" Fleur asked. "You said that demons had put that...thing onto Hermione. What for?"

"Because you were witches," Gabriel explained. Hadn't he told them that already?

"Witches?" Aziraphale arched an eyebrow. "Gabriel, really." He sounded disapproving.

"Don't look at me like that, you're the one giving them tea. Besides, they're alright."

"I thought you said you stopped that," Hermione interrupted.

"Stopped what?" Fleur and Aziraphale asked at nearly the same time.

"There was a demon killing wizards, but you said it was dead," Hermione said, giving Gabriel a look that clearly said  _ start explaining, now. _

"It  _ is  _ dead," Gabriel protested. It was like no one trusted him anymore.

"There were  _ demons,  _ too?" Aziraphale sighed into his cup. "Dear me. That's unfortunate."

"It's a little more than  _ unfortunate.  _ As far as I can tell, the first one got summoned and then got a little too curious about how their magic worked."

"The 'first' one?" Fleur repeated. "There are more?"

"I ran into a few a couple days ago."

"I didn't hear about anyone dying." Hermione worried her lip between her teeth. "What happened?"

"They're dead," Gabriel said nonchalantly. "I took the time to ask them some stuff, but they were just there to track down the first one."

"Are you sure more won't show up?" Aziraphale asked. "It's bad enough here, demons running around willy-nilly. I'd hate for that sort of thing to spread to other worlds."

"It won't." Not if he had anything to do with it. "From what they said, it was hard to get just four of them over. Unless Hell has some sort of breakthrough in dimensional travel, I doubt it's going to get any easier for them."

"If it's that difficult, most likely they'll give up on it," Aziraphale mused. "Especially if none of them come back. But that all depends on whether this 'new' magic is enough of a lure for them." He focused on Fleur and Hermione. "If I may ask, how  _ does  _ your magic work?"

The couple glanced at each other. "That's a bit difficult to say," Hermione said. "Neither of us are magical theorists; I'm still in school, actually."

"Mm. What I meant was, how do you  _ channel  _ it?" Aziraphale clarified. "If it was different enough to attract that many demons despite the difficulty of it, I, er...well, it must be quite interesting."

"Wands, usually," Hermione answered after a moment. "We can use them to do all sorts of spells, but you've got to start with the more basic ones. I think it's because they use less energy. Wandless magic's very difficult, unless there's some sort of extenuating circumstance. I think only Merlin ever managed it regularly, though of course that's just hearsay. And of course once you get a hang on the basics then you can move to nonverbal spells."

Aziraphale nodded as she spoke. "I take it your spells are verbal incantations, then?"

Gabriel leaned back in his chair as Hermione and Aziraphale descended into a discussion on magical theory. He didn't doubt that more demons were coming, whether to find out what happened to the others or motivated by greed for a new place to spread their metaphorical nets. This world wasn't the only one that had crossroads. Hopefully Aziraphale was right about them possibly giving up on it; he'd know more about them. He'd spent so much time on Earth that Gabriel doubted he hadn't run into more than a few.

Still, Gabriel thought it was unlikely for demons to give up on something so potentially big.

"Hold on for a moment." Fleur spoke up, breaking into Hermione and Aziraphale's conversation. "You haven't told us what these demons  _ want.  _ Not really."

"They want to know how your magic works." Gabriel said. He was sure he'd mentioned that already. "Probably to see if they can manipulate it so they get something out of it. Demons possessing magical vessels would give them control of that vessel's magic."

"Oh, wonderful," Aziraphale muttered. "That's exactly what we need. Demons with strange powers."

"So demons are running around and doing whatever they like?" Fleur was frowning.

"Crowley sent a few of them. Beyond that, I don't know who else is involved."

"Who's Crowley?" Hermione asked curiously.

"The King."

"Of what, Hell?"

"Exactly," Aziraphale said. He looked thoughtful. "I know I've heard of Crowley before. If he's behind this, he's probably just looking for more people to corrupt. Souls and whatnot."

" _ Souls _ ?" Hermione looked incredulous. "You mean  _ human  _ souls? What do demons want those for?"

"Power," Aziraphale said simply. "A human soul's one of the most valuable things in existence. Crossroads demons will give a person anything they want, and ten years to enjoy it of course, in exchange for the person's soul."

"People  _ actually  _ sell their soul?" Hermione seemed to have forgotten about her tea. "That's -  _ why _ ?"

"If they're desperate." Gabriel shrugged. "For fame, for power, to get rich quick."

"To bring someone back from the dead," Aziraphale added.

"You can't bring someone back to life," Fleur said. She was looking at them as if she was just realizing that she was at a table full of dubiously sane people. Or one person and a few ethereal beings, to be technical about it.

"Sure you can," Gabriel said. "You just need to have the right kind of power. Or sell your soul to someone who does, in this case."

The two witches glanced at each other incredulously. 

"Then why don't you do it all the time?" Hermione demanded.

"Because just because we're  _ capable  _ of doing it, doesn't mean we should." Aziraphale sipped his tea. "Gabriel and I possess enough power individually, not to mention if we worked together, to do quite a lot of nasty things, but we don't. Death is certainly a bad thing, but that doesn't mean we go around resurrecting people just because we can."

"And Death gets pissed off if we do," Gabriel put in. "So, y'know, it's also to avoid having to deal with him and whatever he'd do."

Aziraphale frowned at him. "He's not that unreasonable of a fellow, really."

"Yeah, and he outranks me by like, a million."

"He's  _ Death.  _ He doesn't  _ have  _ a rank, and certainly not by Heavenly standards." Aziraphale replied primly. "Regardless, resurrecting people for no reason at all would just be in bad taste. And demons only do it for the soul. It's not as though they're trying to be  _ nice. _ "

" _ That  _ would be weird."

Hermione cleared her throat pointedly. "So," she began, changing the subject, "how long are we going to stay here, anyway?" Judging by the way Aziraphale's attention sharpened, he wanted to know the answer to that question, too. 

"There's still demons to consider," Gabriel said evasively. "This world has a lot more of them, even if the store  _ is  _ warded. And we still don't know who sent them after you."

"Crowley?" Aziraphale suggested.

"I dunno. I doubt it."

"It's late already," Hermione reminded them. "If we take too long, it's going to be morning before we can leave. Couldn't we just ask Michael-"

" _ Michael _ ?" Aziraphale dropped his cup. It hit the table, the dregs of the tea spilling out. He didn't seem to notice.

"Yes," Hermione said slowly, glancing at the spreading puddle of tea and pushing her chair back slightly. "Shouldn't you get a paper towel or something?"

Aziraphale waved his hand almost absentmindedly at the mess. The tea gathered itself back into the teacup, which righted itself. He was looking at Gabriel. "I need to speak to you.  _ Privately. _ "

Gabriel stood up reluctantly, letting himself be pushed out of the room. The door closed behind them with a  _ click _ .

"Exactly  _ when  _ did  _ Michael  _ get out?" Aziraphale demanded in a whisper. His calm demeanor had immediately vanished.

"Last year." Gabriel kept his voice quiet, acutely aware that Hermione and Fleur were only separated from then by a piece of wood.

" _ How _ ?"

"I don't know for sure."

"Why are you being so  _ calm  _ about this?" Aziraphale hissed. "I thought you of all angels-"

"That I'd  _ what _ ?" Gabriel snapped back in what could barely be counted as a stage whisper. "I didn't get Michael out  _ myself, _ do I look insane to you? They just showed up!"

"And you just  _ went  _ with it?"

"I didn't  _ realize  _ they were Michael until recently."

" _ Realize _ ? You can't be serious." Aziraphale sputtered.

"Be serious about what? That ne fell?"

"Since when would  _ Michael  _ do anything like  _ that _ ?"

" _ Ne  _ says ne didn't have a choice."

Aziraphale laughed under his breath. "And you  _ believed _ that? Falling itself is a choice."

"I don't know."

"This all sounds  _ ridiculous.  _ You're saying Michael was..." Aziraphale faltered, as if unwilling to actually say it.

"Human." Gabriel finished for him.

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Why would I joke about this?"

Aziraphale was moving his hands nervously, lacing his fingers together and tangling them up in each other. "But it - if they were human-" He cast a glance at the closed door. "I - I haven't heard anything about this. Surely if Michael were back-"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, it’s been all over angel radio. You mean there'd be 'something' going on and you would be able to tell?" Gabriel's mouth twisted. "They're...different. Michael apparently isn't too keen on picking up where they left off.”

"Oh. Well. That's a relief." Aziraphale didn't look any less nervous. His hands didn't stop moving. "I...assume humanity er, impacted them rather drastically, then."

Gabriel gave him a flat look, raising one eyebrow. Aziraphale seemed to get the message.

"So what happens now?" he asked, changing the subject.

Gabriel hesitated. "I don't know," he admitted grudgingly.

"Who  _ knows  _ what will happen with Michael back in Heaven." Gabriel wasn't entirely sure Aziraphale was still talking to him. "If that gets out...well, there are more than a  _ few  _ who would refuse to follow them simply on principle. A more  _ human  _ Michael...I don't think Heaven's  _ ready  _ for that. And of course with such a radical shift in ideals..." Aziraphale paused, eyes flicking to Gabriel for a moment.

Gabriel crossed his arms. "You think there's going to be another war."

"It's been chaos since Michael was trapped." Aziraphale said, sounding almost wary of reminding Gabriel of it. "Many would wish for the same sort of order that they imposed before. Michael trying to  _ change  _ things will only exacerbate the situation."

"You're saying they  _ shouldn't  _ try to change it?" Gabriel said, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice.

"No, no, of course not," Aziraphale replied hurriedly. "I'm only saying-"

"I know you've been on Earth since before all of this went sideways, but Heaven  _ has  _ to change," Gabriel snapped. "If that comes with Michael owning up to their mistakes, even better. I don't care what anyone else has to say. Not all of them want that  _ back. _ "

"I'm aware," Aziraphale assured him. "But if it  _ does  _ go badly, this will be the second civil war in four years. I haven't been  _ completely  _ out of the loop."

"Don't remind me." Gabriel gritted his teeth. "You weren't there."

"So that means I don't know how bad it was?" Aziraphale shot back. "I may not have been, but that doesn't mean I wasn't paying attention. I  _ saw _ all those who fell. You don't think I guessed what had happened? Guessed who had cast them down?"

"Shut  _ up,  _ Aziraphale!"

Aziraphale jerked backwards, startled by Gabriel's shout. Gabriel pinned him in place with a dark look.

"I left for a  _ reason, _ " Gabriel said shortly, biting out the words. "I don't need you bringing all  _ that  _ up again."

"I - Of course!" Aziraphale said hurriedly. "I should have known it would be a sore subject, what with you-"

"Just  _ stop talking. _ "

Aziraphale opened his mouth and then closed it, seemingly thinking better of whatever he'd been about to say. He made as if to open the door and reenter the back room, then hesitated again. "You know," he said quietly, "avoiding an issue doesn't make it disappear."

He vanished through the door before Gabriel could think of a good retort, closing it behind him. Gabriel settled for scowling at the door.

Aziraphale was too damn perceptive for his own good, sometimes. Before he could think better of it, Gabriel turned on his heel and walked out into the more familiar London streets.

* * *

 

The demon was hardly a surprise, but they caught Gabriel's attention anyway.

This time, he didn't immediately reveal himself. The demon was too obviously in the middle of something, glancing around furtively and ducking around corners. They were doing their best to blend into the crowd. Gabriel, if he hadn't been able to see their true face under the host, he might have lost them in the crowded London streets.

Gabriel left a generous distance between him and the demon. Too close, and he'd be spotted in an instant. Demons seemed to have a built-in survival instinct when it came to angels.

Eventually, the demon slipped into an alleyway. Gabriel lingered at the end of it, peeking around the corner to see them enter a building from the back.

"Damnit." He wouldn't be able to go inside without the demon knowing something was up. Gabriel was tossing up between waiting and just flying in and grabbing them when the windows lit up, magic sparking from inside the building.

Gabriel's eyebrows shot up. This was a new development. Who else was in there? The demon was gone, that was for sure; he could no longer sense it. Gabriel flitted closer, taking a look inside. There was only one human in there, but -  _ oh. _

One,  _ very familiar  _ human.

Gabriel laughed under his breath, shifting his vessel to a more comfortable appearance before letting himself in through the open door. "You're having some trouble tonight."

The dark-haired man inside spun around. The demon's host lay burnt out and discarded on the ground.

" _ Loki _ ?" The man said disbelievingly in a thick Irish accent. "I'd heard you were dead."

"And you believed it? I'm offended, Patrick. You know I'm better than that."

Patrick snorted, kicking the empty body away from him. "I also heard there was an archangel involved. Forgive me for thinking the worst."

Gabriel's smile faded. Shit. He'd forgotten that Kali had blown his cover. Maybe she hadn't told anyone? She was the only one who had made it out of the Elysian.

...Yeah, doubtful.

Patrick, though, was grinning at him. "It's good to see you," he said. "At least now I know someone who can actually give me a good game."

"I'm not here to play," Gabriel said.

"What, like losing a few years bothers you?"

"In this economy? I've got to conserve what power I've got. In case you haven't noticed, Norse paganism hasn't really been big for the last few hundred years."

"Fair enough," Patrick admitted. "But if you didn't come here for a game, then I doubt you came to see me. I haven't seen hide nor hair of you since your supposed death."

"I've been keeping low." It wasn't, technically, a lie. "I was following that demon, actually. What's a demon want with you?"

Patrick sighed. "The same as the  _ last  _ three I've been forced to deal with. Honestly. Three different cities in three days. It's getting a bit tiring." He flipped a poker chip in his hand, and Gabriel could see the echo of magic on it. "They wanted these."

"What's a demon going to do with those?" Gabriel's brow furrowed. Demons didn't need the extra years Patrick kept tethered to his poker chips until he used them for himself. They were pretty much immortal unless they got killed.

"You've got me," Patrick said. "Unless it's for someone they're dealing with, but I doubt demons would give someone immortality. Defeats the whole 'selling your soul, dying, and going to Hell' bit, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Gabriel agreed absentmindedly, mind racing. Patrick had, unknowingly, struck gold - or at least given Gabriel the hint he needed to find it.  _ Demons  _ didn't need immortality, but if they dealt with someone who wanted it...what better way to do it than by giving to them with a method that didn't make them any more difficult to kill?

And Gabriel  _ definitely  _ knew of someone who would sell his soul for immortality; or at the very least get someone else to sell theirs for him.

"I know that face." Patrick had crossed his arms. "You're about to pop out on me without so much as a goodbye, aren't you?"

"Unavoidable business?" Gabriel offered. "Look, I've been laying low, but I've still got stuff to do."

"Of course you do," Patrick sighed. "And if I ask, you're just going to say 'god business' and poof off."

"You know me so well," Gabriel said, falsely nostalgically. "But not really  _ god  _ business. I've been staying out of the loop for a reason."

"I'd almost say you  _ want  _ them to think you're dead," Patrick said. "Honestly, I know you've faked your death before, but this is taking it a bit far."

Gabriel just smirked, arching his eyebrows. "The limit's where I say the limit is."

" _ Sure. _ " Patrick rolled his eyes. "Really, though. Don't be a stranger. I could use the company."

Now that he mentioned it, Gabriel didn't sense Patrick’s girlfriend Lia anywhere nearby. That was disappointing; he’d have liked to say hello. "I'll consider it." He conjured something behind his back, taking it out of non-existence into something solid and tossed it at Patrick. "Here, use this."

Patrick caught it easily. "A hexbag?" He asked skeptically, examining the object. "You're usually classier than this."

"It gets the job done if you don't want demons to find you," Gabriel told him. "Unless you'd rather give it  _ back _ -"

"I just didn't know you even knew what these were, much less how to make them," Patrick retorted teasingly.

Gabriel just rolled his eyes, raising one hand in a wave as he transported himself away.

He didn't use his wings, but he still didn’t have access to his old Norse magic, so Gabriel did something tricky and complicated instead to keep Patrick from recognizing his nature. Gabriel managed to get himself back to the bookstore,at least,  his disguise slipping off him like water. Shapeshifting, on the other hand, was hard to lose a knack for once you'd got it. It was pure muscle memory, if magic counted as a muscle.

"Oh,  _ there  _ you are." Hermione looked relieved to see him. She'd taken refuge on Aziraphale's sofa with a relatively new book, or at least as ‘new’ as something could be in regards to Aziraphale’s collection. Gabriel guessed that was why he'd let her take it off the shelf. "Where did you go?"

"Out and about. I was trying to dig up some more info on our demon friend with the hellhounds." Well, it wasn't a lie.

Hermione closed the book, looking at him expectantly. "Did you?"

"All I got is hunches." Gabriel flopped onto the sofa next to her. "We should probably leave soon."

"Oh, good," Hermione sighed. "It was getting so late, I was beginning to think you weren't coming back. Aziraphale was hardly helpful, you know." She imitated Aziraphale's posh accent. "'That's Gabriel for you, never stays in one place long. He'll be back eventually'. I got the feeling he meant more than a few hours."

"Time's different for us," Gabriel said, shrugging. "We don't see it the same way."

"Well, I figured." Hermione said. "You've been around so long, a day or so must seem like nothing."

"That's one way of putting it."

Hermione carefully placed the book on the table. "Aziraphale's nice, though. And his collection's  _ amazing." _

"He's mentioned that basically every time I come over," Gabriel said dryly.

"Because you always manage to cause some sort of chaos," Aziraphale said primly, appearing from between two shelves and whisking the book off the table. "I really should put this back, I got it as a first edition so it's rather older than some of these."

"A first edition?" Hermione repeated, looking surprised. "That's from the twelfth century, at least." She seemed to remember that that wasn't very odd for an angel as she was saying it, but Aziraphale had already started talking.

"Thirteenth, actually, the woman who wrote it owed me a favor. I nearly got it autographed, but she had to run; women didn't really get published back then, you see, and she didn't want anyone to realize it was hers and force it out of print." Aziraphale sighed. "A shame. She had some good ideas, if a bit too proud of herself."

"It's a first edition, and you let her read it?" Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "You've never so much as let me touch one."

"Because  _ you  _ do not have any respect for books whatsoever. Miss Granger does." Aziraphale replied.

"What, are you going to break out the books of prophecy next?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "I've never really put much stock by  _ prophecy _ ."

Gabriel remembered a certain witch storming out in the middle of Divination. "Prophecy and Divination are two completely different things."

"Divination?" Aziraphale tutted. "Well,  _ that's  _ a different kettle entirely. Prophecy's usually correct - psychics and the like do very well, if they're not just pretending to have some sort of power. Prophets, though, well unless they're Heaven-chosen, Heaven usually puts out enough interference on whatever psychic line they've got to make sure they don't get  _ too  _ much right."

Hermione didn't seem quite sure what to make of that. Neither did Fleur, who had trailed Aziraphale into the room.

"That seems pointless," Fleur said after a moment.

"It's in the name of ineffability, really, the idea that Heaven has all the answers and all that." Aziraphale explained. "Or I suppose it is, at least."

"You don't know for sure?" Hermione questioned as she stood up.

"Oh, goodness, no. I haven't been in Heaven for..." Aziraphale hesitated, then managed a sort of smile. "Well, quite a long time now. But it's nearly morning - shouldn't you be going? Staying up all night is hardly good for you."

Hermione frowned, but didn't call Aziraphale out on the abrupt subject change. "Fleur and I were going to Apparate back, since she's got her license, but I doubt that would work well across worlds, or however it works."

"I could drop you if you want," Gabriel offered, standing up. "I would be heading back to that Earth anyway."

"You don't even know where our apartment is," Fleur pointed out.

Gabriel laid a hand on each of their shoulders. "Think about where it is really hard. I'll probably get it right."

He took off without pausing to say goodbye to Aziraphale.

Again, both of the human witches staggered as they landed, this time in a sensibly furnished living room.

"Next time," Fleur said, "I'd appreciate if you gave us a warning."

Gabriel only flashed her a grin, taking off in the same moment and touching down lightly back home.

Back  _ home.  _ Gabriel laughed to himself. A decade ago, he wouldn't have thought he'd have any place to call  _ that _ anymore. But here he was - he'd made his own home, on Earth.

Gabriel's smile faded somewhat. Aziraphale had gone and dredged up old memories; they were still lingering at the back of his mind, impossible to get rid of. He'd have been perfectly happy  _ not  _ thinking about any of that. He'd done very well at pretending it had never happened - at least, not to him - for the better part of the last two millennia.

Then again, with Michael nemself around, it was difficult  _ not  _ to think about.

Gabriel, briefly, considered the benefits of shouting into a pillow to try and vent his frustration. It seemed to work for humans. He sprawled out on the sofa, glad no one else seemed to be awake or, if they were, in the house - he didn't feel like trying to socialize and pretend like everything was fine.

Why was it always  _ Michael  _ who was at the root of his problems? Every time he figured something out, he had to tell Michael or people would think he was keeping secrets. He had to work with Michael to stop demons. He had to spend most of the year in close quarters with Michael.

And then there was Hermione, who seemed to think that she could solve all their problems if she got them to talk about it. Objectively, Gabriel knew she was only trying to help, and he understood. Really. She hated that they didn't get along and was trying to fix it.

She was just going about it in the wrong way.

Gabriel grabbed a pillow and shoved it in his face, groaning. It was strangely therapeutic. Difficult to breathe, though.  _ I'll just stay here forever and let them solve their own problems.  _ It was a tempting thought, to just try and ignore the wizarding world and leave regardless of what would happen, but Gabriel knew he couldn't. He was too invested in making sure Hermione came out alright; and yes, maybe a little bit because he knew that Voldemort was someone who needed to be stopped.

He hadn't really made an effort to stop the dark wizard, only when they ended up in the same place; and even then it was only a halfhearted attempt. Gabriel wasn’t even sure  _ why  _ he’d been doing that, aside from a vague sense that it would turn out alright since Voldemort obviously died in the books. The only reason no one had called him out on it was because they still didn't get how powerful he was.

Although if demons were getting involved with Voldemort now, then that was something to be worried about.  _ Why couldn't it have just ended when Michael killed the first one? _

Demons were looking for Patrick's immortality cure to give to Voldemort.  _ Someone  _ had sold their soul for it; there was no way it had been Voldemort, but if one of his followers made a deal for Voldemort to get immortality in exchange for the death eater's soul, then a demon might take that deal. They didn't want Voldemort's soul. They'd take any soul they could get their hands on, sure but not one that mutilated.

Patrick could deal with demons, but sooner or later one of them would find a way to give Voldemort what he wanted. That was a no-go. Gabriel sighed into the pillow. This meant teaming up with the Order, no matter how suspiciously they regarded him.

At least Muriel might be able to back him up, if the Order trusted her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 'Patrick' I'm referring to, for those of you who don't know/don't remember him is Patrick from 5x07 (The Curious Case of Dean Winchester). He was a witch who played poker with people for years instead of money - if you won, he gave you years, maybe enough to be young again. If you lost, you got really old and he took the years you lost for himself to keep himself young. Dean of course ended up losing a game, etc, but Patrick didn't actually die in that episode so I'm hardly breaking canon.
> 
> I would have put this in the author's notes, but I didn't want to spoil anything. As for him knowing Gabriel as Loki, I figure Gabriel knew a lot of people. Why not him?
> 
> Comment please!


	67. Horcruxes and Headmaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you all liked the last chapter! I'm working out the bits and pieces of the plot as I go, but I really hope we'll be able to move onto some bigger stuff in this chapter. I've certainly been building up to it for long enough.
> 
> ANYWAY. Dealing with Voldemort won't be easy, because first they've got to find him. And then figure out who sold their soul. Not to mention that Nott's still running around doing his thing - or trying to - and Dumbledore is up to Something.
> 
> I've been meaning to include Patrick for a long time, but it turned out happening a little differently than I thought it would. That's what happens when you write a scene 78346 chapters before it actually happens.
> 
> But first, MORE OF THE KIDS. I've been kinda ignoring them because I let some nasty comments get to me but these guys are a gold mine of writing material, I tell you. My only regret about this story is that they're not the focus of it [though once I finish this I'll probably immediately go to fix that...]

Gabriel made the most of what was left of the winter holiday.

It was really the only time he got to spend at home; even if the day-to-day routine had developed mostly without him and he had to squeeze himself into whatever niche it afforded, he did enjoy it.

Jormungand had found his way to the sofa and pressed himself into Gabriel's side, watching the game his brothers were playing. One thing Gabriel had noticed was that Jormungand hated being alone; he'd always find a way to trail after someone, loosely holding hands or just following them around the house in whatever games they thought up.

"Ha, checkmate!" Slepnir crowed.

"That's  _ chess _ !"

The other two had a similar tendency; normally all three of them were in each others' company for most of the day, doing whatever they could think to do to entertain themselves.

"I'm still winning."

"No you  _ aren't. _ " Fenris sounded personally offended at the idea that Slepnir might think he was winning

"Not with  _ that  _ piece,  _ this  _ piece."

Gabriel let his arm rest over Jormungand's shoulders, lazily watching the progression of the game. Hel had gone off to make sure Helheim hadn't fallen into complete disarray in her absence, and the twins were out somewhere where there weren't several energetic boys to watch out for. He was, surprisingly, enjoying being the only 'adult' in the house.

Especially since he didn't seem to need to do much at the moment. The boys were all older than they’d been two years ago, and actually looked it (though not one looked even close to being  _ years  _ older), but that didn’t mean they didn’t still need supervision. Gabriel would take every moment of relaxation he could.

"You can't win like that unless you roll  _ exactly  _ the right number."

"I will."

"No you won't!" Fenris was giggling so much it was impossible to see the conversation as an argument.

"He can win in two turns," Jormungand said softly, "No matter what he rolls."

Slepnir immediately frowned at the board, trying to figure out what Jormungand saw that he didn't.

" _ Jor _ ," Fenris whined. "Don't  _ help  _ him."

Jormungand muffled a smile in Gabriel's shirt, and Gabriel grinned down at him. "C'mon, Fen, I bet you can find a way."

Slepnir glanced up. "You should play." It was directed at Gabriel.

"Nah, I think I'm taken at the moment." Gabriel ruffled Jormungand's curls; his hair was loose again. "'I wouldn't want to interrupt your game."

"Yeah, but you're going soon."

It was like Slepnir had dumped a bucket of cold water over the collective good mood. Jormungand's hand, which was curled into Gabriel's, tightened on his. Fenris had turned and was looking up at Gabriel like he was half-hoping the answer wasn't what he thought it was.

"Yeah," said Gabriel reluctantly. Winter break ended in a few days, and he'd have to return to the school to keep up appearances. However much he disliked having to. "Not right now." It was a feeble sort of dodge around the topic.

"Two more years," Jormungand said, looking up at him. "Then you're staying for good, right?"

"'Course I am," Gabriel reassured him. “Less than that, now.”

"What's happening at Hogwarts?" Fenris asked out of the blue. "Balthazar looks nervous sometimes. When he thinks we're not paying attention. Or if he doesn't realize we're there."

Of course he did. Balthazar was still horrible at subtlety; then again, he'd barely been on Earth for as long as Castiel. "It's to do with Voldemort," Gabriel said. "You know about him, right?"

All three of them nodded. "He's the stupid one with no nose," Slepnir said.

Gabriel  _ may  _ have put his own twist on things when he told them about Voldemort. "Well," Gabriel said, "He's got a plan that I've got to figure out, which probably involves demons."

Jormungand wrinkled his nose. "Ew."

"Yeah, ew is right." Gabriel had also, in the past, told them how he saw demons as opposed to how they appeared to humans. "Anyway, he's only human. It's just a little problem."

"Demons aren't human," Fenris pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'm cooler than them," Gabriel said, grinning, and managed to startle a laugh out of Fenris. "And way too much for them to take on."

"You're not cool at all," Jormungand said in a falsely innocent voice that said he was taking the phrasing the wrong way on purpose. "You're like a heater."

Gabriel didn't try and suppress the sputter of laughter that rose out of his chest. It was true he was probably warmer than the average human. Grace was light, and light produced heat. It was simple physics, even if he did exist outside most (read: all) of those rules, and those that he happened to obey were pure coincidence.

Fenris hopped onto the sofa, leaning against Gabriel's other side and settling into place. "You  _ are _ ," he said agreeably. Slepnir sat down too (on Jormungand's side; Fenris had personal space issues), the game forgotten in the sudden lure of what was turning into a cuddle pile.

"This house does have heating," Gabriel teased them.

Jormungand shrugged, his shoulder briefly digging into Gabriel's ribs. "I like you better."

* * *

 

Gabriel reflected that night, tangled up with the three of them and the blankets, that his kids were very sweet to him even though he barely saw them anymore. He was essentially a stranger, dropping by for a few weeks or months at a time.

And they still acted like this around him, like he'd never left. Granted, he  _ was  _ their dad, but...

Well, he could name more than a few people (including himself) who wouldn't react nearly as nicely to the return of an often-absent parent.

Jormungand rolled over, sighing sleepily, his hand flopping over and grasping at Gabriel's shirt. Gabriel resisted the temptation to run his hand through Jormungand's curls; the latter was a  _ really  _ light sleeper.

Honestly, if they  _ had  _ taken it badly - him being gone all the time - Gabriel didn't know what he'd have done. Probably figured something out with Sigyn anyway. None of them were under seven hundred, but none of them had the experience of living on their own, either.

And there was no way he'd risk anything happening to them again.

Gabriel sighed (quietly). Somehow, his thoughts always ended up negative. He needed to stop thinking about this stuff at night.

Gabriel closed his eyes, and tried to pretend for a moment that there was nothing he needed to worry about.

* * *

 

A few days after term started again, Hermione managed to corner Gabriel.

Michael was with her, too. Great.

"You ran into  _ more  _ demons?" Was the first thing ne said.

Gabriel made a face. "They were after the first one, they're dead, no biggie. What's this about?"

"Mostly this." Hermione displayed the angel blade he'd given her. "You weren't a whole lot of help with this."

Michael's eyes widened, and then narrowed. "That's not yours. Where'd you get it?"

"Off one of the demons.” Gabriel switched his focus to Hermione. “Are you asking for lessons, or what?"

"Well, if that's what it would take-"

"Hold on." Michael put nir hand in between the two of them. "What was a  _ demon  _ doing with an  _ angel's  _ blade?"

Hermione's gaze shot to the silver weapon in her hands. "A  _ what _ ?"

"There's been plenty of 'em rattling around since you went out of the loop," Gabriel shot back.  _ Please don't drag this out.  _ "Demons didn't hesitate to steal as many as they could.” He turned his attention back to Hermione again. “You don't really need lessons, all you've gotta do is make sure you get close enough to stab them."

Michael's gaze lingered on the sword, and then moved to Gabriel. Gabriel could practically see the questions ne wanted to ask.

"If this is an angel's blade, shouldn't I return it?" Hermione was holding the blade awkwardly, as if she didn't trust herself with it.

"The only way a demon gets its hands on something like that is if the angel isn't around to use it anymore," Gabriel said shortly. "You're fine."

"...Oh." Hermione held the blade even more awkwardly. "I told Michael what you told me, by the way. About those demons." It was a blindingly obvious attempt to get the conversation to easier-to-steer waters, but Gabriel was grateful for it.

"If Crowley's planning something, then we should be on the lookout." Michael said, relief winding through nir Grace as well. Huh. It was a sore subject for both of them, apparently.

"We already have been," Gabriel reminded him. "But in case you don't remember, there's a war going on here."

"I'm aware. Death eaters hardly take up all our attention. There hasn't been an attack in nearly a month."

"And that doesn't strike you as a little weird?"

Michael paused. Gabriel kept going. "Something's up," he said. "With Voldemort especially. And demons are probably involved in that, too. So we're looking at one, big, gigantic problem instead of two only  _ slightly _ smaller ones."

"We knew demons were involved with Voldemort already," Michael reminded him.

"We didn't know they were looking for immortality."

Michael's gaze sharpened. "How do you-"

"I dropped in on an old friend," Gabriel said vaguely. "He's been having some demon problems."

Hermione raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You know someone who knows the secret to immortality?"

"Eh, sort of. The point is, demons don't need it for themselves, so they've got to be getting it for someone else." Gabriel said. "Point is, there have been signs all year that something bigger's coming."

"And you think you know what it is?"

"Honestly?" Gabriel said. "I don't have a fucking clue."

* * *

 

And then, there was still the problem with Nott.

Gabriel could have trailed him, if he'd felt like expending the energy, but instead he went with keeping an unusually close eye on things in the school.

_ Anything  _ remotely outside of the norm, and he knew. It was a little irritating keeping his awareness spread so far, but since it was usually concentrating on whichever area the Slytherins happened to be in, he only had to deal with a few simultaneous surroundings.

It was hardly the most difficult thing he'd ever done. Gabriel just had to make sure he didn't lose track of one or the other while concentrating a little too hard on eavesdropping.

But holy crap, were the Slytherins boring. The sixth-years couldn't seem to find anything better to talk about than boring, human things. There was no mention of Death Eaters, or Voldemort, or even the 'Dark Lord' as his followers seemed to enjoy calling him.

He should have known they'd avoid the topic. Everyone would expect them to be talking about that - and, unfortunately, they weren't stupid enough to talk about whatever they were planning in the open. Not even in their  _ dorm  _ rooms. It was like they thought they were being listened too everywhere.

Well, they were, but since they didn't know that it was really just excessive paranoia.

Nott was close-lipped even about mundane topics. Gabriel gave him a passing, subtle glance when they passed in hallways or in the Hall; he didn't look much different. Maybe a little pale for a human, but Gabriel hardly thought that was an indication of evil, villainous plotting. If anything, it was a stereotype.

Occasionally, Nott would vanish off his radar.

This never ceased to irritate Gabriel. The idea that there was anywhere in the castle he couldn't reach was just plain infuriating. He was an archangel, and this stupid, magic castle was managing to hide something from him. It shouldn't be possible - except it apparently was.

The first time it happened, he didn't notice until Nott reappeared a few hours later. Gabriel cursed a few times internally and followed Nott mentally, pretending he was still listening to the Transfiguration lesson.

Nothing  _ seemed  _ different. Nott was doing normal human student stuff. He always seemed to (annoyingly) notice when Gabriel tried to get a look at his thoughts, and Gabriel was a little too far away to be able to do it completely unnoticed, so that was out. But there were only so many places he could have been; and if he went back, Gabriel would know.

The second time, Gabriel noticed when Nott vanished off his radar. He didn't bother pretending to pay attention to Snape - the man wouldn't dare call him out on it, anyway - and sent his awareness trailing after where he'd last noticed Nott.

Through the school, up to the seventh floor, down a hallway with a really ridiculous tapestry-

_ Oh, you've got to be kidding me.  _ Since when was the Room of Requirement outside of angelic perception?

Gabriel frowned to himself. Then again, it didn't show up on the Marauder's Map either; there was something very odd about that room.

He resolved to find out what. Later. He had other problems, now.

* * *

 

The third time, Gabriel was actually in a position to follow.

He landed silently as the door faded back into blank stone. Gabriel scrutinized the wall for a few moments, trying to make out the magic that hid the entrance, but that had vanished as completely as the door. Utterly improbably vanished, but Gabriel was hardly one to question probability - he just complained internally when it made his life difficult.

He did, of course, remember the rules that governed the room. Unless he knew exactly what Nott was doing in there...

"I can't get in," Gabriel muttered, frustrated. It was like Murphy's law; whatever could go wrong for him, did, at the worst possible times. "Come  _ on.  _ I'm trying to do something good for once."

He considered trying to fly straight into the room, but he doubted it would work; if the magic in it was powerful enough to keep him from peeking in, it was probably powerful enough to keep his actual self out. Gabriel didn't want to chance where he might end up if he did try.

Next time he got close enough to Nott, he was  _ so  _ going to read that kid's mind like it was the last book on Earth, privacy be damned.

Except things were never as simple as they could be.

Gabriel visited Muriel on one of the weekends in February; January had passed in no time at all before he'd remembered that, upon returning, Muriel had managed to claim a seat at the head table. She wasn’t exactly unnoticeable, but he wasn’t used to having help.

Two angels were always better than one.

* * *

 

Muriel was in McGonagall's office, having secured a position as a teacher's assistant, apparently. McGonagall was in there as well, and they were swapping conversation over a tin of cookies and a stack of papers that were probably essays or something like that.

Gabriel tapped on the half-open door to get their attention. Both women, or the woman and temporarily woman-shaped being, turned to look at him, the conversation faltering.

McGonagall arched her eyebrow. "Yes? What is it?"

"Mind if I borrow Muriel for a second?"

McGonagall's eyes darted to Muriel, narrowing slightly. "Do you know him?"  _ Do you know what he is,  _ is what she probably meant.

Muriel gave her a faint smile, standing up. "Of course. Give me a moment, please. I'm sure it's important." She crossed the room, and Gabriel stepped back so that they were both standing in the hallway.

Muriel closed the door with her hand. "What is it? I thought you said you didn't want them to know we knew each other."

"I said you'd probably get in easier if they didn't know we're related. You're in, ergo, I don't care." Gabriel replied. "You know a kid named Nott?"

"In Slytherin? Sixth year, right? What about him?" Muriel's brow creased slightly.

"He's working for Voldemort."

"A teenager?"

Gabriel shrugged. "He's sixteen. Old enough to know what he's doing. Anyway, he's up to something, but stuff keeps getting in the way when I try to keep track of him. Next time he shows up in your class, mind seeing what you can find?"

"Mind reading is generally looked down on as an invasion of privacy, you know." Muriel looked faintly disapproving. She'd probably gotten that look from McGonagall.

"Then don't, but unless you can think of another way..." Gabriel spread his hands. "I'm just asking, not ordering. Technically you don't have to do anything if you don't want to."

The disapproval changed in a blink to surprise. "Of course I'd like to help," Muriel said. "I've heard of Voldemort. I hardly want someone running around working for him. What's he doing?"

"As far as I can tell, it's an attempted assassination. As for the  _ how _ ..." Gabriel trailed off for dramatic purposes. "That's where your help comes in."

"How did you find out what he was trying to do if you don't know how he's attempting to do it?"

"That is a  _ really  _ long story we really shouldn't go over in the hallway." Gabriel jerked his head at the closed door. "Besides, from the looks of it you've got papers to grade."

"Ha, ha." Muriel replied sarcastically. Gabriel smirked. It seemed the time she'd spent on Earth hadn't completely gone to waste. "I'll let you know if I find anything, then."

"All I'm asking for. Thanks, Muriel."

* * *

 

"His mind," Muriel said later, "is unusually well guarded."

"So you gave up on alternative methods, huh?"

Muriel makes a face at him that doesn't do anything to deter Gabriel's teasing. She's the only other one of his siblings who gets easy banter like this; Balthazar, for all his quick adaption, has still only been on Earth for the last five years or so, and leans more towards quick, rude, and often inappropriate. Gabriel prefers conversational partners who know where to draw the line. 

"I was just mentioning that,” Muriel said. “My point is, I can't see much of his thoughts without him noticing. And if I start to hover, Minerva notices."

"Who?"

"Professor McGonagall."

"Ah." Gabriel nodded. "Yeah, that would probably weird her out. So you got nothing, too." Fantastic.

"What I don't understand is how a sixteen-year-old managed to get such a steady grasp of Occlumency," Muriel mused aloud. "It's a tricky art.  _ I _ never tried it."

"Occlu-what?"

"Mental protection. Wizards can read each others' minds as well, if they know how," Muriel told him.

"You don't need magic to do that."

"What _ ever _ ," Muriel said, startling Gabriel into a grin. "Didn't you wonder how he learned it, though?"

"Honestly, not my biggest issue at the moment."

Muriel hummed thoughtfully. "You never told me who he's attempting to assassinate, by the way."

"Oh, Dumbledore."

"What?" Muriel physically reacted, leaning back from Gabriel as if the shock physically repelled her. "And you think it's going to  _ work _ ?"

"Well..." Gabriel explained about Adam, and how it had apparently turned out in whatever version of this universe existed without Gabriel. Muriel listened intently, her expression growing pensive.

"Hm," was all she said when he finished. "This would be a lot easier if someone could just find Voldemort and kill him."

"There's still Horcruxes to think about," Gabriel said.

" _ Horcruxes _ ?" Muriel obviously knew what he meant. " _ Voldemort  _ has  _ horcruxes _ ? Plural?" She sounded so shocked that Gabriel wondered for a split second if she was exaggerating it.

"Yes?"

"How many?" Muriel questioned.

"What's the deal with him having more than one?"

"Horcruxes are incredibly Dark magic," Muriel said. "They - well, they don't  _ break  _ the soul - they can't - but they do  _ something  _ unspeakable to it. I never dared to research it further while I was here. For him to have made more than one is-" She looked almost sick. "Revolting, to be honest, and more than a little horrifying. How many?"

"Three," Gabriel said. "Maybe four. I'm not sure whether a scrap of him possessing a guy counts."

"It doesn't."

"Three, then."

Muriel sighed and muttered in Enochian under her breath. "If he went that far, it's possible he made more."

"Aw, shit, I hope not."

"There's still the possibility. I'm not saying that he did - we can't know for sure." Muriel looked thoughtful, fingers picking at a frayed thread in the seam of her robes. "How long as Voldemort been around?"

"No idea. He was a thing when the last generation was at school here, so probably a while." Gabriel hazarded a guess. "Forty years, maybe?" Maybe fifty - there was the diary from second year to consider, though Gabriel had never been sure why it was Voldemort’s soul and Tom Riddle’s consciousness. Maybe that was where all the writing from the diary had gone; absorbed into the soul, giving it Tom Riddle’s personality and memories from when he’d written in it.

"And this is still the only magic school in Britain?"

"...Yes?"

"Then wouldn't he have gone here?"

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "I guess. Where's this line of reasoning going?"

"Wouldn't Dumbledore have been at the school at the time?” Muriel asked. “He's certainly old enough. He would have known him as a student - perhaps well enough to know whether he made more."

Gabriel stared. "Muriel," he said, "You're a genius."

* * *

 

Dumbledore, disappointingly, didn't react beyond looking up from whatever was on his desk when Gabriel and Muriel landed.

"Ah," he said, looking almost cheerful. "Muriel. I might assume that I was correct in guessing that you were an angel, except assumptions always seem to go wrong."

"You're correct," Muriel said. She looked flummoxed. "How did you guess?"

"Muri _ el _ . The suffix is, I believe, common in angelic names." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "It's possible that it is only a name - there is a Weasley matriarch somewhere in the line named Muriel, if I remember correctly, but you  _ have _ just appeared in my office in a way I have only seen Gabriel manage."

Muriel only nodded. She looked somewhat impressed, but Dumbledore  _ had  _ managed to figure it out with just a name.

Gabriel glanced at the cloak draped over a stand near the desk, slightly worn and rumpled, as if Dumbledore had just taken it off. "Just get back from somewhere?"

"I did, as a matter of fact," Dumbledore replied. "But I don't believe that's what you came to ask me about."

"No," Muriel agreed. "It was about Voldemort. He was a student here." It wasn't a question.

Dumbledore's attention visibly sharpened. "He was," he replied guardedly. "I was still Transfiguration professor at the time. It was quite a while ago. At the time, none of us guessed what Tom Riddle might become."

“Tom Riddle?” Gabriel echoed, startled. Tom and Voldemort were the  _ same?  _ Balls. So the grubby jerk had gotten his hands on Gabriel’s Horn after all. His Horn felt tainted already. “Wasn’t he the memory from the diary?”

"He was.” Dumbledore nodded. “That diary was, I believe, the first Horcrux he made - a perfect preservation of his sixteen-year-old self. Of course, you destroyed that one, but I'm surprised you didn't realize who it was."

"I was a little busy to listen to him monologuing," Gabriel replied. "Seems kind of careless for him to let someone get their hands on something like that."

"If he made more, he wouldn't worry about one being destroyed," Muriel said.

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "That is, in fact, partly why I have been gone so often this year."

Gabriel had noticed that Dumbledore was rarely at the staff table, but he hadn't thought it was anything important. "You're going Horcrux hunting?"

"Not at all," Dumbledore said. "I have only guesses of what his other Horcruxes might be. I have, in all honesty, been following the trail of Tom Riddle's past."

"Why?" Muriel tilted her head, as if a fifteen-degree angle would help her pick out Dumbledore’s motives.

"How else would one discover what Horcruxes he made, when only Voldemort himself knows all of them?" Dumbledore spread his hands. "The trail is difficult to follow and many involved are reluctant to speak, but I believe he made seven."

Gabriel's mouth twisted.  _ Seven.  _ Voldemort had mutilated his soul seven times over. He could see a similar disgust reflected on Muriel's face.

"All this to try and keep himself alive?" Muriel's tone reflected her expression.

"People can do terrible things when they're afraid of something," Dumbledore said calmly. "And Voldemort is quite terrified of death. Seven is still only a guess, but I am more sure of it than some of my other guesses. Seven is an inherently magical number, something that Voldemort would be drawn to."

"Going by that reasoning, there's four left," Gabriel said.

"The diary and the ring are gone, yes, but that leaves-"

"His snake was one, too. It's dead. Four left." Gabriel interrupted Dumbledore.

"This would be easier if you told the Order," Muriel said. "More people looking would mean that it would take less time to find them."

Dumbledore shook his head. "The more people know, the more likely it is that Voldemort might discover what we are looking for. If that happens-"

"You were fine with telling them about  _ me, _ " Gabriel scoffed. "What, suddenly you don't trust your own organization?"

Dumbledore looked grave. "Some things are better kept secret."

Gabriel didn't bother trying to hide his skepticism. "So you've got a bunch of guesses and no idea what the other four are."

"I have some idea. I believe Voldemort may have sought out Founder's objects; Hufflepuff's cup, Slytherin's locket, the like." Dumbledore explained. "Whether he managed to find Ravenclaw's diadem, I have no idea."

"The diadem isn't a Horcrux," Gabriel said. "Believe me." Voldemort couldn't have made it into one if he'd tried.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "You're sure of this? How?"

Gabriel couldn't resist. "Some things are better staying secret."

Muriel snorted, one hand rising to muffle it a little too late. 

Even Dumbledore looked a bit amused. "Well," he said, "I supposed I can't fault you for that one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, please!


	68. Destruction and Break-Ins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like at this point I should probably explain how I've figured out the Horcruxes, I'll try and explain how I think of it. It's established in SPN canon that souls cannot be broken; not even by Death himself. So obviously a Horcrux is not tearing off a bit of one's soul and sticking it somewhere else. What I'm thinking is sort of like the portals from Portal, the videogame - if you've never heard of it, then you'll probably need to look it up for it to make sense.
> 
> But with those portals, you can stick something through and it might be on opposite sides of a room, but it's still connected - it hasn't been broken in half. The portals just make it easier to separate those halves without physically taking them apart. That's how I figure it works. As for how it stops someone from dying, idk.

"This wouldn't be what a Horcrux looks like, would it?" Muriel's voice made it clear she already knew the answer.

Gabriel turned around, raising his eyebrows at the locket Muriel held - specifically, the blackness leaking from inside it, though however it had been enchanted made it more difficult to see the bit of soul. "Where'd you find that?"

"Grimmauld Place. I thought it had seemed a bit off when I was last there, but I didn't realize what it was until our talk with the Headmaster." Muriel was holding it with the tips of two fingers, obviously reluctant to touch it. "It does need to be destroyed beyond all possible repair. Any suggestions?"

"Sure. Toss it here." Gabriel caught the locket as it swung towards him, then threw it down onto the floor and stepped on it as hard as he could, driving Grace behind the action. The locket cracked in two with a faint scream, something black swirling up before igniting in white. "There. Done."

Muriel made a face that suggested she was reminding herself why she shouldn't have been surprised by Gabriel's methods. "That's five, then. And possibly another two that need to be found." She bent down, gingerly picking up the broken locket. "Shame."

"That we had to break it?" Gabriel could still make out the emerald-studded, snakelike  _ S _ on the front of it. "That's Slytherin's, isn't it?"

"Yes." Muriel admitted. "I hadn't realized that either until I found it."

"Bet he'd hate this." Gabriel smirked.

"I'm not sure whether he'd be offended or flattered," Muriel said. "He always was quite proud."

"Guess that's why he left."

Muriel took the chair opposite Gabriel. "Partly," she said. "He was...very good at convincing people that he had a good reason for his beliefs. It wasn't reasonable, of course. The real burnings didn't start 'till much later in history, but...he always managed to make it sound like we were the unreasonable ones. Godric was the one who brought up the idea of letting us each choose who went into out own Houses."

Muriel hesitated, and Gabriel waited.

"We shouldn't have let him leave," she said quietly. "We should have worked it out, but we were all angry. Helga was always too stubborn."

"Yeah, well," Gabriel said, "Things have a habit of going to shit at the worst time for us."

That made Muriel laugh a little. She tucked the locket into an inside pocket of her robes (which Gabriel had no idea where she'd gotten, but they were a little old-fashioned). "I noticed that you're in Ravenclaw."

"Hey, Hat's decision. He probably remembered who you were and put me there so I'd find out." Gabriel decided to take the plunge. "You know there's a Ravenclaw ghost floating around? Name of Helena?"

Muriel's head snapped towards him, eyes wide. " _ Helena _ ?"

"She's the one who told me what happened to the diadem," Gabriel said. "After she apparently stole it. Popular story says Ravenclaw died after that." He raised his eyebrow in a silent question.

Muriel still looked shocked. "I - couldn't stay in my vessel. Helena's  _ here _ ?"

"Unless something's happened in the last few years, yeah. She's the Ravenclaw House ghost."

Muriel inhaled sharply, running a hand over her face. "I shouldn't - it's not-"

"No one's blaming you," Gabriel said, trying to be reassuring. "I mean, if I were in your shoes..."

"I didn't know she'd come back." Muriel looked at him. "What happened-"

"I think that's something you should probably ask  _ her, _ " Gabriel said hastily. It wasn't like he knew Helena's life story.

Reluctance - and something like worry - was clear on Muriel's face, but her wings spread nonetheless. She vanished from the seat, but Gabriel lingered a few moment longer.

He kind of wondered how Helena was going to react.

* * *

 

Gabriel had only vague ideas of what the last - or second-to-last - Horcrux might have been. It was a Founder's item, that much was obvious, but Muriel had said that the founders had left more than just their symbols, for lack of a better word, behind.

The first time Gabriel had really encountered one of those soul shards, though, was when he'd burned it up inside his vessel. One of them had gotten stuck in Harry Potter's body with him - and if that was one of the seven, then that meant that there was only one left to find and get rid of.

And, well, however many there  _ were,  _ there were really only so many Founder's objects left.

It was just a matter of figuring out  _ where  _ they were. Or which ones Voldemort might have gone for.

The latter was much easier to figure out, based on the others.

And really, how hard could it be to find Hufflepuff's cup?

* * *

 

Gabriel shouldn't have jinxed himself.

It took  _ weeks _ before any useful information made its way back to him. He'd spread the word (disguised) in several magical circles, paying attention to some of the darker ones as well; if anyone was likely to know, it would be people who made a living stealing things like that. He'd even refrained from doing anything to anyone in Knockturn when he'd flitted through, no matter how just plain fucked up their actions were. He couldn't know if he might be inadvertently killing someone who knew what he was looking for.

Gabriel was in the Alley every weekend, waiting for some nugget of information to find its way back to him. With the kind of reward he'd promised (he hadn't given Fred and George  _ all  _ of the Potter money, after all) there was no way anyone would hold off on telling him.

He'd just found random people and made sure they knew the option was out there for some money.

As it turned out, Gabriel had gone in the right direction.

"I'm not looking to buy anything." Borgin and Burke's was a clearly disreputable shop halfway down Knockturn Alley, and the owner wasn't much better. "I was just told that you had something you said was Hufflepuff's cup. If you're saying you were lying-"

"Had, past tense," the owner hurried to say. Gabriel didn't know whether he was Borgin or Burke. "Quite a few years ago. I don't know where you've gotten your information, but it passed out of my hands when Tom Riddle quit."

Gabriel's eyebrows would have shot up if he wasn't make an effort to remain impassive-looking. He'd had plenty of practice doing so while being Loki. It also helped that, for the moment, he looked the same as he had then. "Tom Riddle?"

"He was my shop assistant for quite a while, about fifty years ago. Took it with him when he left." The owner sounded disgruntled. "Don't know what he did with it, since it never reappeared on the market."

"Guess," Gabriel said, putting a dark tone in his voice. The owner could take that however he wanted.

The man hesitated. He was almost sweating. It was really very gratifying. "If he didn't take it to sell, Tom wanted it as a trophy. It would be in Gringotts by now. If you're looking for something of that caliber I have several items-"

Gabriel turned on his heel and left, ignoring the owner shouting about a vanishing cabinet and how it was very cheap, really, if he wanted it and would consent to wait a day or two to take it. He took himself to the end of the Alley quickly, not wanting to spend too much time in Knockturn. Turning back onto Diagon, Gabriel stopped to look down the road at the pale white, looming shape of Gringotts.

This was going to take some time.

At least he was at full power.

* * *

 

In a surprisingly convenient turn of events, the goblins kept a list of who owned which vaults.

The goblins didn't notice he was there; no matter what kind of magical creature, Gabriel was still an archangel. He could muster up enough power to keep him hidden from a few magical accountants.

Admittedly, a few of them looked up at the rustle of his wings, but beyond that all he had to do was give the one writing a note in the huge book of records a tiny mental push to leave the room. Tiny, really. He doubted the goblin even noticed it hadn't been his own idea.

The room itself was heavily guarded and warded. It had taken him twenty minutes just to get past all the spells. Gabriel had had to dispel and bend away ten different enchantments to be able to  _ touch _ the book without alarms going off.

Opening it was a whole different matter. Gabriel sighed and resigned himself to the long haul.

The parchments and papers the goblin had been working on were just records of withdrawals and deposits - and holy hell, did Gringotts keep stringent records, down to how long it took to make the transaction - but what interested Gabriel was inside the big book of vaults.

Once he got it open, he found what he was looking for fairly quickly.

_ Lestrange, Macnair, Nott, Rookwood, Carrow.  _ Death Eater names were everywhere in the older vaults.  _ Riddle  _ wasn't on the list, and neither was  _ Voldemort.  _ Gabriel checked just to be sure, no matter how stupid it would have been.

Gabriel didn't know the names of  _ every  _ Death Eater - pointless and since the only occasion where he'd want to know would be if they were standing in front of him, he would just be able to read their mind, doubly unnecessary - but he did remember some of the big ones who had been in the graveyard the year before last. Voldemort, if he had given it to one of them to hide in Gringotts, wouldn't have trusted just any lackey with something like a bit of his soul. Or whatever a Horcrux held.

_ That  _ narrowed the list of possible suspects considerably, though it still left more than was exactly convenient. Gabriel resigned himself to the fact that he'd just have to go through all of their vaults to find out who was hiding the cup for Voldemort.

* * *

 

The Carrow vault was empty of anything resembling a cup, much less one with a badger on it or even an H. So was the Dolohov vault. And Mulciber's, and Rookwood's, and Nott's, and Macnair's, though Gabriel did find a cool (and cursed) ring in the latter. He pocketed it for later.

It was always nice to have a backup. And if he ran into Macnair at any point, it would be hilarious to use his own curse against him. Most of the vaults seemed to hold only money, with the occasional artifact and, the deeper he went, more elaborate setups for easy access to whatever treasure the owners wanted to retrieve. There were swords and cutlery and all manner of fantastic, cursed items.

Gabriel left most of it alone, unless he was  _ really  _ tempted. Or he just wanted to fuck with the vault owner - which, to be completely honest, was most of them.

Though unless they took a surprise inventory he doubted they'd notice anything missing.

Gabriel didn't find anything else useful until he got to the Lestrange vault. The dragon outside being used as a guard made him think that there was probably something pretty damn important inside.

He slithered in between the wards and various alarm spells, like he'd done for the last twelve vaults (ugh, it would have been  _ horrible  _ if he'd had to go through every vault in the building) and landed lightly on the floor just inside the door. It was a little more ornate inside, instead of money piled everywhere in the most slapdash way like  _ some _ of the vaults had been. There were tables, shelves, even a few jeweled suits of armor. The latter made him raise his eyebrows, but he didn't touch anything.

Yet.

Any magic from his wand (not that he used it that often anymore) that was used in the vault would get picked up on by the wards, so Gabriel conjured a little Grace-light to see by. The vault was pitch-black otherwise; not the best circumstances to find a cup by. The light followed his finger as he turned slowly, bobbing by the shelves and sparkling off of the gold and silver and jewels.

"Geez, this family's a little too proud of all the expensive crap they've got." At least half of it was inlaid with some sort of crest, with a motto in Latin.  _ Tojours Pur.  _ Always pure. "Huh. Guess I can tell where  _ their  _ loyalty is." With that kind of family motto, it was hardly surprising that the family was one of Death Eaters.

He very nearly missed it when he saw it.

Gabriel swung back around as soon as he realized what he'd seen, the light flickering wildly and them stabilizing, reflecting brightly off the smooth gold surface of the cup. A badger, looking over its shoulder and identical to the one emblazoned the Hufflepuff crest, gleamed in the light. "Hel _ lo _ ."

Gabriel summoned the cup into his hand with the barest effort. He did  _ not _ expect it to  _ burn, _ and the sudden sensation nearly made him drop it.

"What the-?" He held it by one handle, wincing slightly at the tingle of magic. It didn't hurt as much as it would have to a human, but it was hardly pleasant. Copies of the cup had burst out as soon as it hit his hand, falling to the ground with a crash and clatter. Only the blackness of the soul inside the real one let him tell the difference.

Gabriel snapped, vanishing the copies and undoing the enchantments on the cup in the same movement. The burn on his hand healed over as he lifted the cup to get a better look at it.

"Someone's paranoid," Gabriel commented to no one in particular. That was a strange series of spells to enchant something like a Horcrux with. He would’ve thought that it would be a dangerous business to put spells on something already so inundated with magic.

The cup crumpled like a soda can in his fist, white light igniting the Horcrux inside it. Gabriel muffled the scream, not sure what alarms it might set off; and this deep in Gringotts with a dragon outside and probably irritable, that was the  _ last  _ thing he needed.

Gabriel slipped back outside the vault. He'd done what he came to do; now all he needed was to get back to Hogwarts and figure out where the hell Voldemort was. Hopefully nobody had noticed yet that he wasn't at Hogwarts. It wasn’t a school day, but he didn’t want to attract more attention than he had to. 

Gabriel glanced at the dragon as he passed it, thoughts breaking up as he took it in. It was covered in scars, and appeared to be blind. He doubted it was down here naturally. The scars were a testament to how it had been trained.

_ I wonder... _

* * *

 

If anyone asked about the dragon in Diagon Alley, Gabriel decided, he was going to lie and say he hadn't had anything to do with it.

Besides,  _ technically  _ he had nothing to do with the way it had destroyed the roof of Gringotts. And the floor of the main hall. And several of the levels in between (or parts of them, at least).

It wasn't like anyone could  _ prove _ he'd been the one to vanish the chains.  Or that he'd even been there at all.

* * *

 

Hogwarts was ominously quiet, when Gabriel landed in the Ravenclaw dormitory.

Frowning, Gabriel listened for noise in the dormitories. There were less people than usual, and they were in the higher rooms; crowded together, most of them younger than fourth year, a lot of them with fast, panicked breathing-

Oh, hell, something had gone wrong.

Gabriel tracked down Hermione as fast as he could and was at her side in an instant, backhanding the spell she shot at him into the nearest Death Eater, who collapsed bonelessly.

"What happened?" He demanded.

"Where have you  _ been _ ?" Hermione shrieked. "Death Eaters got into the castle!"

"How'd they get in?" Damnit, Nott had moved faster than he'd thought. He should have just read the kid’s mind, no matter how it might have tipped his hand.

"I don't know! Where  _ were _ you?"

Death Eaters rounded the corner and Gabriel snapped his fingers. All three of them crumpled. "That's not important. What's going on? How far did they get into the castle?"

"I don't know." Hermione pushed her hair back from her face. Her wand was still clenched in her hands. "They - I don't know where they came from, but Michael noticed it. Ne left to go find you and the rest of us - any of us who knew enough to defend ourselves came out here."

"From all houses?"

"I think so."

Shouts and an ominous crash made both of their heads snap around, looking towards where the corner obscured their view.

"Come on!" Both of them ran towards the noise. Gabriel skidded around the corner and came to a rapid halt. The sight that met his eyes was not at all welcome.

Two Death Eaters fell just because they weren't paying attention, but the other two stiffened, eyes flicking black. Gabriel's silver sword slid into his hand easily, and with a wave he jerked the students backwards and away from the demons.

"What the hell-" They were both staring at him, probably wondering where the hell his wand was.

“Gabriel, what-” Hermione began, sounding frightened.

"Hermione, get them somewhere else," Gabriel snapped. He didn't wait to see if she'd listened.

He and the demons met in the middle.

One of them had a blade, the other just a plain old knife. Gabriel ignored the latter sticking it into his shoulder and gutted the first. He waited only long enough to make sure it was dead before spinning around.

The second one saw the illusion blade, not the real one, and didn't realize his mistake until Gabriel had the real one buried in his chest.

Backing away, Gabriel yanked the knife out of his shoulder. A check revealed that both demons had possessed Death Eaters, but he didn't recognize either of them.

Gabriel breathed heavily, and reached out to feel around the halls of the castle. He felt that strange buzzing at the edges of his senses, like in first year, and a nudge from a presence that felt like the school itself pointed him at the worst of the fighting, only one floor down.

Gabriel set off, blade in hand, towards the stairs.

* * *

 

The Entrance Hall was a mess of fighting, black-robed figures and smoky black ones mixed in with uniformed students only identifiable by the lack of robes and bright House colors.

Gabriel yanked Luna out of the way out of a killing curse and stopped it before it could hit anyone else. The curse fragmented and sparked, unwilling to be snuffed. Gabriel gritted his teeth and forced it.

"Where were you?" Luna's eyes were wider than usual. "Are you bleeding?"

"Not important." Gabriel strode to the edge of the balcony. The Hall below flashed with light from wands and echoed with shouts.

He would have jumped down and done something, but Michael got there first.

Thunder rattled the school as Michael appeared _.  _ Gabriel was the only one who could see nir wings. They were flared, both in anger and because ne had just landed looking like live flames. The demons nearest nem didn't last longer than a second. The rest of them had just enough time to realize how utterly fucked they were before they died.

For a minuscule fraction of a second, the fire of nir Grace glowed like a branded line through the crowd of people.

Then it faded, the demons slumped to the ground, and the few Death Eaters that hadn't been possessed were quickly overwhelmed by quick-thinking students. Those who weren't staring at Michael in shock, that was.

Michael was next to Gabriel in the next second. "Where have you been?" Ne demanded.

Gabriel hooked the cup out of his robes by one handle, holding it up. "Busy," he said shortly. "What I want to know is how the hell they got in."

"I believe I'd have an answer for that?" Balthazar’s voice startled Gabriel. He and Muriel rounded the corner. Balthazar had a Death Eater by the collar, silver mask in the other hand, which he held up. "These guys really go all-out. I'd be jealous of the intricacy, if the whole thing wasn't, you know, incredibly stupid and bigoted."

"When did you get here?" Gabriel asked.

"I called him," Muriel said. "I reached out to Castiel as well, but he hasn't arrived yet."

Gabriel nodded shortly. He wasn’t sure if Castiel would be able to make it easily; travel between universes was difficult and involved a lot of bending of the laws of physics. He turned his attention to the captive Death Eater.

"How'd you get in?" Gabriel questioned. The Death Eater only stared sullenly at him, fear lurking in his eyes.

"There's still fighting in other places," Luna reminded them. "This isn't all of them. They were trying to get to the Astronomy tower."

"What for?" Michael looked at the Death Eater, eyes narrowed in a glare. "What's up there that you want?"

"Fuck you," The man spat back.

"What about how you got in?" Muriel asked. The man hesitated.

"Vanishing cabinet." Michael looked away. "He was thinking it. There's one in the Room of Requirement. Nott fixed it."

"You need a pair to use a Vanishing cabinet," Luna said.

Gabriel swore. "Borgin and Burke's. There's one there. I bet that's the second one."

"What were you doing in Borgin and Burke's?" Surprise flashed across Michael's face.

Gabriel held up the cup again. "I have an idea of who might be in the Astronomy tower," he muttered. "Or who's about to be. Is Dumbledore in the castle?"

"He left this morning," Luna said. "A little after you did, actually. No one knows where."

"Hold on." Muriel struck the Death Eater on the head with the hilt of her sword, knocking him out. Balthazar let go and let the man fall to the floor. "Is this about Nott's assassination plan?"

"They're trying to  _ kill  _ Dumbledore?" Luna's grip on her wand tightened.

"You could have mentioned this earlier," Michael said darkly.

"Now's not the time," Gabriel snapped back. "If they put up the Dark Mark over that tower, as soon as Dumbledore gets back and sees it he's going to go rushing up into a trap. If he's been gone all day I'm betting he'll be back soon."

"They're betting on it to." Balthazar gestured to the unconscious Death Eater. "What do we do?"

"We have to find Hermione," Luna said. "Have you seen her?"

"Yeah, she was alright a minute ago." An idea flashed across Gabriel's mind. "Give me a minute."

He was back in Ravenclaw tower in an instant. Gabriel didn’t waste any time before throwing open his trunk and digging through it to find what he was looking for. His wand was easy to find; the other was buried at the bottom. He hadn't used it in ages. He didn't really  _ need  _ it, but Luna would.

Michael's eyes went to the second item when Gabriel returned. "What's that?"

"Something to help." Gabriel tucked his blade away. He needed both hands for this. Tapping on the parchment, he recalled the password. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Red ink bloomed across the parchment, forming the greeting. Gabriel was already throwing the map open, looking for Hermione's name. He found it on the third floor, in the east wing. "Here, that's where she is."

"Where'd you get this?" Muriel leaned over the map in interest, eyes scanning it.

"Fred and George." Gabriel shoved it at Luna. "Take this, go with Balthazar and Muriel and find Hermione."

"What about the Astronomy tower?" Luna clutched at the map reflexively.

"We'll take care of that," Michael said.

"If you need to wipe it blank, the password's Mischief Managed." Gabriel said hurriedly. "It's got everything but the Room of Requirement on it, as far as I can tell. There's a way to Hogsmeade on the third floor, near that statue of the witch, if you need to get anyone out of the school,  _ take that exit.  _ The Death Eaters are going to be covering the entrance."

"We've got this, go!" Muriel pulled Luna back the way she and Balthazar had come.

Gabriel took off.

* * *

 

There was another fight at the base of the Astronomy tower.

Gabriel knocked two of Voldemort's lackeys off balance just by landing. His wings were spread wide and looming over them, and if they'd been able to see his wings they probably would have been terrified.

As it was, they made the mistake of fighting back.

Gabriel sent them crashing into the wall with a gesture. The students already fighting had frozen at his and Michael's sudden appearance. Gabriel recognized Ginny and one of her Gryffindor friends; Michael must have, too, because ne beelined straight for the black-robed figure attacking Ginny. 

Lucky for nem, the figure and their companion were so focused on Gabriel they didn't notice Michael behind them. Nir blade was through the demon's chest before any of them could react to Gabriel. The Death Eaters were flung to the side. One of them tipped over the railing. Their partner didn't move to save them. Her wand kept moving between the two archangels.

Gabriel frowned at her.

"Narcissa Malfoy." He flipped her hood back with a snap, revealing a fearful face. "What happened to you and Draco hanging out at Grimmauld? You know, when we offered you a place to stay so we  _ didn't  _ end up in this position?"

"And the Order treats us well?" Narcissa's voice was steady. "They barely even notice us, and when they do they hate us."

"You think this is the preferable option?" Michael questioned. "Because it really isn't."

"Because of you two?"

"Yes." Gabriel flipped his blade in his hand. He saw Narcissa's eyes move to it. "You know that."

"I do what's best for my family." Narcissa replied. Her posture was stiff, still prideful. "What would  _ your  _ side have done for us?"

"It's not our side," Gabriel told her condescendingly. With all Narcissa knew of him, she could have at least guessed. The students - a Gryffindor boy and Ginny - were still fixed in place, watching the proceedings with wide eyes. "We just happen to have a common enemy. Who is, apparently, your boss again."

"I don't care what happens to the Dark Lord," Narcissa hissed. "I rejoined Lucius because they offered  _ real  _ protection."

"And what did that get him?" Michael questioned. "A demon possessing him? Is that what you want for your family?"

"Lucius is important to the Dark Lord," Narcissa said. Her mind was full of fear and uncertainty, a woman caught between two hard places: one full of darkness and the other of prejudice. Gabriel was hard-pressed to be sympathetic. "He will be fine."

"You actually believe that, don't you?" Gabriel laughed. He took a step towards Narcissa. "You really think-"

"Don't touch her!"

Pale and shaking, Draco was standing on the lowest step, wand pointing dead at Gabriel. Gabriel, turning to look, raised one eyebrow.

"What makes you think I'm going to do anything to her?" He asked mildly. He wondered if Draco would actually have the courage to try and curse him. He had to know it wouldn't work, but maybe he’d give it a go anyway. He was certainly terrified enough to not think it through.

"You're Loki," Draco said. In the corner of his eye, Gabriel saw the other Gryffindor (Neville?) suck in a sharp breath. "I've read the stories about you. You killed your brother's  _ son, _ for no reason."

Michael gave Gabriel a startled look, but Gabriel was already moving. Draco choked as Gabriel pinned him down, pressed against the stairs with a hand to his neck. Draco's wand clattered to the floor.

"Draco!" He heard a scuffle behind him, but Gabriel wasn't paying attention to that.

"Not for no reason," Gabriel growled. "Odin made the mistake of adding himself to the list of people who fucked with me. Would you like to find out what happens to the ones who insult me? Or underestimate me?"

"Gabriel-" Michael's voice held a note of warning.

_ "What _ ?" Gabriel turned to glare at Michael. Ne had a tight grip on one of Narcissa's arms, keeping her wand hand pointed at the ceiling. Ginny and the other Gryffindor didn't look like they were sure who they were supposed to be pointing their wands at.

"I'll take care of this," ne said quietly. "You go upstairs and stop them."

Gabriel glanced upwards. There were several people gathered in the tower already. One of them was Dumbledore.

He was reluctant to follow Michael's orders. Gabriel was tempted to refuse point-blank just on principle. But he hardly felt like staying here and dredging up old history in front of nem either.

He left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, totally not sorry for the cliffhanger here. I had to give myself somewhere to start the next chapter!
> 
> Comment, please!


	69. Death and A New Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since my spring break is starting at the end of this week and I'll be busy on a seven-hour flight Friday (!!!!) I'm accelerating the update schedule slightly! Which means that since there'll be one on Thursday instead it's only reasonable that Monday's update should get bumped up as well.
> 
> (Or I'm just really bored)
> 
> That last chapter is just the beginning of the chaos, story-wise. I have been building up to this shit for the last five chapters [ish]. I'm not gonna stop with just a Death Eater attack, some shaky loyalties, and a cliffhanger. What kind of writer would I be if I did that?

Gabriel joined the group at the top of the tower silently and invisibly.

Dumbledore was near the large balcony. Two brooms were propped up against the wall. Three Death Eaters - well, a Death Eater, a demon, and Theodore Nott - were standing several feet away.

Snape was in between them, as if caught in the middle of going over to join Voldemort's other followers but getting cold feet halfway through the motion.

Gabriel doubted that was what had happened.

"Just get it over with," The Death Eater growled. Nott's wand was trained on Dumbledore. Gabriel could make out a tremor in his arm. But Dumbledore himself looked less like the noble headmaster and more like a frail old man than Gabriel had ever seen him. Not that he saw Dumbledore a lot.

"We don't have much time." The demon seemed antsy - it had probably noticed Gabriel's and Michael's presence downstairs. Gabriel was doing his best to hide his proximity. "Unless you want one of us to-"

"I'm doing this myself!" Nott snapped.

"Then hurry up!"

"You're not a murderer, Theodore," Dumbledore said softly.

"How do you know?" Nott retorted.

"He's stalling." Snape sounded bored. "Finish it, Nott, or one of us will do it for you."

"I can do it!" Nott sounded like a petulant child refusing to accept a parent's help. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"Taking someone's life is not nearly as easy as it seems." Dumbledore said. He sounded like a fortune cookie, but his voice wavered on the last word very slightly. "We've been here for quite some time. You've had plenty of opportunities to kill me, but you haven't."

"That doesn't mean anything," Nott growled.

"I think it does."

"Oh, shut up already." The demon moved forward. "I swear, if I hear one more word out of your mouth-"

The Death Eater clamped a hand down on their shoulder. "Hold on-"

"Piss off!" The demon shoved the other away fiercely, sending them crashing into the wall. He spun back around to face Dumbledore, one finger stabbing at him threateningly. "You. I am sick of all this crap."

"This is  _ my  _ task!" Nott had spun around to face the demon.

"Here's some news, kid. I don't give a shit."

"You agreed to serve the Dark Lord," Snape said. "I doubt he'll be happy-"

The demon laughed. Loudly. And pretty much in Snape's face. "You think I care what your  _ Lord  _ thinks? I only came here because my  _ real  _ boss told me to. She could kick your arses  _ any  _ day."

"If you were ordered to join us-"

"I was ordered to see what was so special about you," the demon interrupted. "Hate to break the news, sweetheart, but we can all cause plenty of damage and chaos on our own. And  _ I... _ " He turned back towards Dumbledore. "Am starting with this asshole."

"Would I be incorrect in guessing that you're a demon?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Just shut up already." Gabriel could see the demon's eyes flick black, and the started jump that Dumbledore hid pretty well. There was something off about the way Dumbledore held himself - like he was barely standing on his own. One hand was gripping the railing of the balcony.

"Stop it!" Nott shouted. " _ Avada- _ "

Gabriel stepped forward, and everything froze.

Gabriel frowned at the motionless people in front of him. Time had stopped, but  _ he  _ hadn't done anything, and time definitely didn’t do that on its own.

The answer presented itself in the form of the figure that stepped out from a particularly dark shadow, cane tapping at the ground. "I certainly hope you weren't thinking of interfering."

Gabriel very nearly backed away. What did Death want  _ now? _ "I'm mostly worried about the demon." He tried to sound nonchalant. "Why?"

"You've changed quite enough things already just by being here." Death regarded the scene in front of them with a sort of detached curiosity.

"Yeah, you mentioned I wasn't supposed to be here last time," Gabriel said dryly. "What's so important that I don't change?"

"Oh, plenty of things." Death said. "I couldn't possibly list them all. Well...if I felt like wasting time doing so, I might." He gave Gabriel a knowing look. "The more you regained your power, the more you've changed how events played out. Just ask Adam. He's staying with you, isn't he?"

Gabriel didn't even want to know how Death knew that. "I was referring to right now, specifically," he clarified. "You're here. Something big is happening. Why make sure I didn't change it?"

Death rested his cane steadily on the ground.

"Albus Dumbledore is going to die."

The way he said it, it was an uncontestable fact.

"I wasn't going to stop him from dying," Gabriel said. 

"You were going to stop the demon," Death pointed out.

"There are three other people here who could do the deed." Gabriel glanced between the four frozen occupants. Nott's face was frozen into panic, the syllables of the curse still on his lips. "Or two, at least."

"You've already inadvertently put off my meeting with several of the people in this world," Death said. "I felt it necessary to step in before any other pivotal events were skipped."

Gabriel frowned. "Like who?" He couldn't see how he'd accidentally saved anyone.

"Sirius Black, for one." Death listed them off. "Nymphadora Tonks. Fred Weasley. And plenty of others. Just because you haven't pulled them out of the way of any curses does not mean that you have not, however indirectly, stopped them dying when they otherwise would have."

"So...you're mad because I'm fucking up your schedule? I thought you had reapers to deal with stuff like this." Gabriel said. "Escorting people on and all that."

Death fixed him with a slightly sterner look. "For the important deaths, I come in person. Now? Yes, I would have a reaper deal with them."

"Okay then." Gabriel stepped backwards. "I was planning on getting rid of the demon and seeing where this mess went. I don't care if Dumbledore dies, honestly."

Death raised an eyebrow at that. "Even considering the effect it might have on the magical community? I thought you came up here to save him."

Did Death keep track of wizarding politics or something? "Don't care," Gabriel replied. It was just a little white lie, but he still felt the tiniest bit nervous, like Death might call him out on it. "It's not like it's my problem. He might be an idol, but that doesn't mean I like him." Dumbledore's death would be a huge symbolic victory for the Death Eaters, but honestly the man kept so many secrets.

And Gabriel had hardly forgotten about the Dursleys.

"Hm." Death seemed to evaluate him for a moment, then looked away. "If you say so."

He vanished, and time sprang back into motion.

The demon backhanded Nott across the face before he could finish the spell, sending him stumbling across the tower. A curse shot off Snape's wand and hit the demon in the chest.

All he did was glare at Snape. "You want to play dirty?" He snarled. "Fine."

Dumbledore hadn't moved from his position, only confirming Gabriel's guess that he had been hurt in some way. Nott was staggering back to his feet, wand swinging up to point at the demon. " _ Stupe- _ "

The demon's hand lashed out and Nott went flying. Snape turned, wand steady in his hand but it wasn't pointed at the demon-

" _ Avada Kedavra! _ "

So Death had been right after all.

Dumbledore went toppling over the railing.

Gabriel barely waited until he'd disappeared before the edge before kicking the Death Eater out of the way and grabbing the demon. The Death Eater toppled down the stairs and out of sight. The latter barely had enough time to look shocked before Gabriel's Grace flared, white light streaming out of their eyes and mouth.

The empty vessel dropped heavily to the ground. Gabriel straightened his shoulders and looked up from it.

Snape and Nott both had their wands trained on him. Nott's hand, surprisingly, was no longer shaking.

"You're too late," Nott said, seemingly taking a vicious pleasure in the words.

"Bitch, please," Gabriel shot back. "I've been here for the last twenty minutes. You think I can't make myself invisible?"

"Why are you here?" Snape asked warily.

"Maybe I wanted to see if you'd do it." Gabriel smirked at Nott. "Apparently not."

"I don't have to justify myself to you," Nott retorted.

"You say that, but you're the only one here worried about justifying it." Gabriel watched with satisfaction as Nott stiffened at the accusation. "I couldn't care less who you kill."

"Then why bother coming at all?" Snape's wand was still unerringly pointed at Gabriel's heart.

"I already told you." Gabriel said. He glanced pointedly at the wand. "What makes you think that's gonna do any good?"

"There are some spells that will work on even your kind." Snape's voice was quiet, but not quiet enough to hide the fact that he was bluffing.

"Yeah?" Gabriel crossed his arms. "Prove it."

Snape took him up on the offer.

Gabriel ducked the curse, snapping his fingers. Snape's wand yanked itself out of his hand and threw itself over the railing.

"You'd better get that," Gabriel said, and threw out his hand.

Snape went crashing backwards. The railing obligingly bent itself out of the way at Gabriel's prompting. There was nothing to stop him following Dumbledore down.

Gabriel turned to Nott. The boy was white-faced, wand held in front of him like a shield. Gabriel grinned at him, showing his teeth.

"I'll give you a five-minute head start," he said. 

Nott turned and fled.

* * *

 

Death Eaters were running out of Hogwarts like rats from a sinking ship. Someone must have spread the word that they'd succeeded. They were abandoning battles and ignoring the students. Only those who tried to stop them got cursed or hexed.

They had spilled out onto the lawn, making for the school’s main gates. If they managed to get past those, they could teleport out. The wards only went so far.

Of course, that was only an option if no one had locked the gates. No one like, say, Muriel, who knew the school and the possible routes to take intimately well.

The bottleneck of Death Eaters was hard to see unless you got close. Their black cloaks and robes blended into the blackness of the night around them, and a few had cast spells of illusion and to keep themselves unnoticed. It didn’t work on Gabriel one bit.

The gates reflected the firelight oddly. There were torches fixed to the fence on either side, guttering in the wind that whipped across the lawn. Muriel stood just on the other side of them, keeping them shut and herself invisible to all of them but Gabriel.

"I'll make this easy," Gabriel called out. The Death Eaters closest to him turned around, wands out. "Anyone who's a demon can come out and stop hiding, and those of you who are still human might actually make it through this." The dense crowd made it harder to pick out who was a demon and who wasn't. That was the only reason Gabriel asked, really.

"You're outnumbered," one of the masked figures sneered.

"Am I?" Gabriel yanked the man's wand out of his hand without moving and cracked it in half. He stepped forward slowly, grinning at the sudden fear he could see. "There's more of you, sure. And you're going to need every single man you've got to have a  _ hope  _ of defeating me."

He was barely a foot away from them now, but no Death Eater made a move to attack or curse him. Gabriel wasn't hiding his presence. The demons in the crowd would be able to sense 'archangel' clear as day.

"No takers?" Gabriel grinned again, just as viciously as before. He unfolded his wings, letting himself start to push against the edges of his vessel. "We'll do it the hard way, then."

Before he could do anything, someone else snapped their fingers.

Flashes of fire bursting from random people's orfices would have told Gabriel exactly who it was, even if Michael's presence hadn't been obvious as soon as ne landed. Gabriel turned to face nem, scowling. "I had it taken care of."

"Showing them your true form is not 'taking care of it'," Michael said. The Death Eaters - any who weren't possessed - had merely collapsed, unconscious. Michael hadn't even landed before ne'd done it.

"What, like you care what would have happened to them?"

"This close to the school? It wouldn't have been just them."

Damn. Gabriel had forgotten about that (well, more like conveniently avoided thinking about that - he really didn’t like the Death Eaters).

Muriel joined them, the wind ceasing somewhat. Gabriel had guessed that that had been her - it had been blowing too forcefully away from the gate to be anything else. "What now?" She asked.

"We meet back at the castle." Michael's eyes were on Gabriel. "They found Dumbledore at the bottom of the Astronomy tower."

Muriel sucked in a sharp breath. "He's not-"

"Do  _ not  _ get on my case about this." Gabriel held up a hand in warning.

"You had  _ one  _ job, Gabriel."

"First off, I don't take orders from you anymore, or did you forget that?" Gabriel snapped. "And if Death himself shows up and tells me to not interfere, I'm not going to fucking stop it from happening."

Michael went from startled to impassive so quickly that anyone but Gabriel would have been hard pressed to notice the first expression. "Fine," ne said grudgingly. "Snape's down there, too. What did you do, kick him off?"

"Something like that." Gabriel moved around Michael, walking back up towards the castle. He brushed a hand over his shoulder, cleaning off the blood from where the demon had stabbed him and fixing the tear in his jacket.

"Snape?" Muriel questioned.

"He had it coming."

Neither of them asked for clarification. At least they could give Gabriel that much.

They ended up regrouping in the Headmaster's office - or Headmistress's, now that McGonagall appeared to have taken over. Hermione and Balthazar had been called in from wherever they'd been, the former looking a bit shaken and the latter as impassive as Michael had been.

"I'm guessing you didn't get there in time," Balthazar said dryly.

"Got held up a little on the way," Gabriel replied. His eyes slid to the portrait of a snoozing Dumbledore that hung directly behind McGonagall's chair. "You guys work fast."

"It's an automatic process." McGonagall's lips were a thin line. "I don't suppose you saw who did it."

Gabriel linked his hands behind his head. "There's a reason Snape followed him down."

"Snape?" McGonagall said incredulously. She looked, suddenly, just as shaken as Hermione. " _ Snape _ ? But Dumbledore  _ always _ trusted him."

"I didn't," Gabriel said, "but maybe that's just me."

"I assumed he became a Death Eater for a reason," Muriel said. "It's hardly surprising. Wasn't there a phoenix in here?"

McGonagall glanced at the empty perch with the rest of them. "Fawkes," she agreed. "I don't know where he's gone. Now that Dumbledore is..." she faltered for a moment, then continued. _"_ _ Dead,  _ I doubt he'll return."

"Being down a phoenix is hardly worrying," Balthazar said. "Especially since between the four of us, we've essentially decimated whatever forces Voldemort had, possessed or not."

"Possessed?" McGonagall repeated. "Do you mean to say that there are  _ more  _ angels in play?"

The shocked and mostly offended stares seemed to convey how Gabriel and the other three thought about that better than words could.

_ " Excuse  _ me?" Balthazar was staring like McGonagall had just cussed them out. "You think any of  _ us  _ would ally with someone like  _ him _ ?"

"You said possession-"

"Demons can possess people, too," Michael said curtly. "And with them, consent isn't an issue. Your Order could be at risk just as easily as any of those Death Eaters."

"I wasn't aware angels asked for consent," McGonagall said.

"We have to," Muriel said. Her expression still came across as  _ did she seriously just say that.  _ "Demons do not. They take whoever they want as a vessel."

"What happens to the person being possessed?" The question came from Hermione. "I know with Gabriel, Harry died, but...what about the rest of you?"

Simultaneously, Balthazar and Muriel looked down at themselves. Michael just shrugged. "I'm a different case," ne said. "I was human. This body's mine entirely - it doesn't really qualify as a vessel."

Muriel was the only one who reacted (with poorly veiled surprise) to that statement; she was the only one who hadn't known how Michael had gotten involved with the Voldemort mess.

"And the two of you?" McGonagall pressed, looking at Balthazar and Muriel.

Balthazar just shrugged. "Dead," he said. "I just took the first vessel I could find. It's really about who's capable of holding you and less about aesthetic, you know?"

Muriel nodded, though Gabriel had a feeling she was just agreeing with the second part. "It's possible to stop a possession, you know" she said. It was only a vaguely subtle attempt to change the topic. "With demons it can be trickier, but there are still methods."

"Like what?"

"Hexbags," Gabriel muttered, making Michael splutter. "What? Don't give me that. They work!"

"'Hex' bags?" McGonagall questioned. "I will assume those aren't what they sound like."

"It's a witch trick," Gabriel said. "And by witch I mean the stereotypical, blood-and-bone kind. I've known a couple. There are more permanent ways, though. All the hex bag does is stop demons from finding you."

"Not being able to find you is a pretty good deal, considering the permanent one is a tattoo," Balthazar added. "Doesn't seem your style."

"I'll decide what my style is, thank you," McGonagall said. "Where did these demons come from?"

"We don't know," Michael said. "They're not very common on this world. Gabriel and I have been trying to figure out how they're getting here, given that they haven't been able to until recently."

To her credit, McGonagall didn't visibly react to the implication of multiple worlds. "Why ally with Voldemort, then?"

"Because they enjoy causing chaos?" Muriel suggested. "Demons are volatile and violent by nature. Allying with Voldemort gives them an opportunity to do that and plenty of willing human helpers."

McGonagall nodded, closing her eyes for a moment. "We can discuss this later," she said, opening them again. "I must meet with the Heads of House to discuss what to do next." It was a clear dismissal.

Gabriel let his hands fall to his sides. He meant to speak up, but Muriel tilted her head and beat him there.

"Castiel's arrived."

McGonagall frowned. "How do you-"

"Bit late," Balthazar commented over her. "Where's he at, then?"

"In the village, he says."

"I'll go," Gabriel quickly volunteered. Anything to get out of the castle for a little while.

* * *

 

Castiel was near the edge of Hogsmeade, regarding the village with a thoughtful frown. He inclined his head in greeting. "Gabriel."

"Hey, bro. You missed all the fun."

"We were tied up in other matters," Castiel explained. Gabriel assumed 'we' referred to Sam and Dean. "And it was more difficult than i expected to reach this place. There was an issue with a demon."

"Join the club," Gabriel said. "There were a shit ton of 'em up here and I can't figure out how they got across worlds."

"Here?" Castiel frowned again. "That...may explain what the demon we were dealing with was talking about. She said there was some plan in action."

"Crowley's?"

"I get the feeling she wasn't referring to him."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Great. Are we talking contender for Crowley's place?"

"Most likely," Castiel agreed. "If they have enough power to send demons here, then whoever they are, they won't be content with him on the throne."

"Fabulous," Gabriel sighed. "As if we didn't have enough problems already."

"Speaking of Crowley," Castiel began, "he actually asked to meet with Sam and Dean."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Just them? Can't be good."

"I didn't think so either, but they seem to think he has valuable information." Castiel looked exasperated. "They already agreed to his terms, despite the risk."

"Probably could have guessed that." Gabriel made an  _ eh  _ face. "What are you bringing this up for?"

Castiel hesitated. "I was hoping you might be willing to go with them instead."

Gabriel pulled another face. "Come on, Castiel..."  _ They don't even like me! _

"Crowley doesn't even know you're alive, he won't have archangel wards up," Castiel pressed. "I won't be able to join them even if I wanted to. Crowley's too paranoid to  _ not  _ ward wherever they're meeting. It's  _ obviously  _ a trap. They only agreed to go because Crowley claims to have information on Cain."

That caught Gabriel's attention. "What  _ about _ Cain?" He hadn't forgotten how Cain had stabbed him after Gabriel had forcefully returned the Mark.

"He's been..." Castiel sighed. "We don't know. All we've been able to find out is that something big is happening, and he is somehow involved."

Fan-fucking-tastic. "Fine," Gabriel sighed. "Where are they?"

Castiel rattled off an address. Gabriel was already looking, wings spreading to give himself the necessary leverage to travel between worlds.

This was gonna be just  _ fantastic. _

* * *

 

Both Crowley and the Winchesters jumped when he arrived, the demon staring and posture stiffening.

"Don't mind me," Gabriel said, smirking at the King of Hell. "I'm just here to chaperone."

"How the hell did you get here?" Dean demanded.

"Rude, Dean. It's like you don't want me here."

"You said you weren't going to bring any bloody angels," Crowley hissed. "This is not how synergy works!"

"We ain't  _ got  _ synergy-"

"Actually," Gabriel interrupted Dean, ignoring the outraged look. "I heard the invitation was only Castiel-exclusive, so I thought I'd drop by. Y'know, to guard against demonic chaos and all that?"

Crowley looked both furious and slightly panicked, which only confirmed the idea that he'd been planning something else.

"Cas told you where we were?" Sam's brow wrinkled. "Why?"

"Oh, I dunno, 'cause you were meeting this guy without any backup?" Gabriel gestured at Crowley. "He was all worried. It was adorable."

"As much as I love to discuss Castiel," Crowley said, "I'm afraid I'll have to cut this meeting a bit short."

"Whoa, you're not going  _ anywhere. _ " Dean stepped forward, a Kurdish knife in his clenched hand. He did look a bit threatening, probably more so to Crowley. "You haven't told us jack squat since we got here, and now you wanna bail? No way."

"You said you had information on Cain." Sam's jaw was set. He was glaring at Crowley. All he needed was a knife to play with to complete the 'menacing' ensemble. "You went to pretty big lengths to get us to come here. Sent demons to give us the message."

"Yes," Crowley snapped, "but that was  _ before  _ I knew you had a bloody archangel on your side! I thought they were all dead!"

"What, did I ruin your little trap?" Gabriel asked. "Too bad for you, then."

Crowley opened his mouth to speak when the room shook.

Gabriel glanced around warily, seeing the Winchesters do the same. He hadn't sensed any demons in the building powerful enough to do  _ that,  _ and it hadn't been Crowley.

"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded.

"No," Crowley muttered, seemingly not hearing Dean. "No, not now, they're not supposed to be here yet-"

"Who did you call here?" Sam had gotten an angel blade from somewhere.

"Your worst nightmare," Crowley snapped back. "And they're not going to be happy to see an  _ archangel.  _ Congratulations, we're all dead."

The doors at the other end of the room blasted open.

A figure strode through, eyes locking onto Gabriel and narrowing into black slits.

Gabriel's stomach dropped.

_ Knight. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMMENT PLEASE, TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK, 'CAUSE SHIT'S GOIN' DOWN.


	70. In Which There Are Several Issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Five chapters from the end! Things are wrapping up, but before we do that, it's time to go COMPLETELY CRAZY AND AMP THINGS UP A LITTLE.
> 
> :)
> 
> Michael and Gabriel are seriously going to have to get their shit together if they wanna get anything done about this. I've got a pretty big thing with them scheduled to come up soon.
> 
> "But wait," you say, ignoring my tantalizing hint about possibly less brotherly angst. "They're archangels," you say. "Surely just one Knight isn't going to be that much of a problem? Gabriel could just kill her right there and then in the beginning of this chapter. You don't even need to bring Michael into it at all."
> 
> Dear, sweet, naïve readers.

_ Fuck. _

Gabriel was frozen. He had  _ not  _ been planning on this. What was a Knight doing here? They were all supposed to be dead!

...Then again, that had been basically everyone's reaction to seeing him again,  _ but that wasn't the point. _

"What's the meaning of this?" The Knight snarled at Crowley. "You didn't say anything about archangels!" Her hands were curled into claws.

"I swear I didn't know he'd be here," Crowley said hurriedly.

"You expect me to  _ believe  _ that? You're trying to kill me!"

Both of the Winchesters were holding their blades defensively in front of themselves. "Who are you?" Sam demanded, and the Knight's head turned to look at them.

She gave them a glancing once-over and turned back to Crowley, ignoring Sam. "You promised the Winchesters. You said they were  _ undefended. _ "

"I thought they were!" Crowley had backed up. He'd put a generous distance between him and the Knight, but the latter kept stalking forward and closing it. "I swear! I told them to come without Castiel, I didn't know they had  _ more  _ angel backup on call!"

"Rowena was right about you," the Knight growled. "You can't be trusted."

Crowley seemed to realize the situation couldn't be salvaged. He vanished on the spot, leaving only a trace of sulfur behind.

The Knight screamed in frustration. The warehouse rattled around the four of them. Dean and Sam backed away slightly. The only reason Gabriel didn't as well was because he still felt frozen to the spot.

The  _ last  _ time he'd gone up against a Knight - well, suffice to say it hadn't gone well.

The Knight turned on him, eyes smoldering. Gabriel's blade slid into his hand easily for the second time that day. He'd just come out of a fight - he'd used his grace freely against the demons, thinking it was no big deal, but he would need every bit he could muster up now.

Her eyes narrowed, and then widened in surprise. _"_ _ Gabriel, _ " the Knight hissed. "I should have known. You have a way of turning up like a bad penny."

Speaking of the last time he'd fought a Knight...

"Belial." The name fell heavily from Gabriel's mouth. Of  _ course  _ it would be the one demon he'd never managed to kill.

"Belial?" Dean hissed. "Gabriel, who the fuck is this?"

"Now, that's just rude." Belial moved sharply towards Dean. Gabriel put himself between them, blade raised, and she paused. Surprise moved across her face, temporarily loosening her posture.

"Don't tell me you're  _ allied  _ with these humans." Belial scoffed, recovering her careless attitude. "Isn't that beneath you?"

"I don't care about them all that much," Gabriel said, "but my brother would be pissed if I let anything happen to them. His disappointed eyes are really something."

"How promising." Belial purred the words. "That means you've got something else to waste your Grace on."

She pounced.

Gabriel fled.

The three of them landed in the bunker with a crash. Gabriel had been concentrating on  _ getting away,  _ not landing steadily. The consequence was that he ended up on the floor.

Judging from the profanity coming from Sam and Dean, they had too. Gabriel rolled to his feet, looking for the warding the bunker undoubtedly had.

There was demon warding - against Knights as well. At least they had  _ learned  _ from the trouble with Abaddon.

"Okay, explain," Dean demanded, using a chair to push himself to his feet. "Who the fuck was that?"

"Belial," Gabriel said shortly. He was hardly in the mood to deal with an irate Dean Winchester.

"Yeah, I  _ heard  _ that bit, I was freakin' there. I mean  _ what  _ is she?"

"A Knight of Hell," Gabriel snapped. That made both of them stiffen.

"I thought they were all dead," Sam said, looking alarmed.

"Since when does  _ anything  _ stay dead when you two are involved?" Gabriel threw his hands up in frustration. " _ Tell  _ me you didn't know about this." It was only a faint hope, really.

"No way, we thought they were gone too." Dean shook his head. "What the fuck, dude? I thought after Abaddon-"

"Abaddon only managed to fake being dead by traveling into the future," Sam reminded, and Gabriel  _ really  _ needed to hear the rest of that story. "Cain said he killed the rest of them, though."

"Apparently not." Gabriel scowled down at the table, trying to think of what might have happened. "There are only so many people who could have brought one of them back-"

"Hold on," Sam interrupted. "You  _ knew  _ her, though."

Cue awkward pause.

"Yes," Gabriel said tightly. "We've met."

"And you didn't kill her then?" Dean asked skeptically.

"Like  _ you  _ finished off Abaddon so quickly?" Gabriel retorted.

"No one's blaming anyone," Sam replied quickly, holding up his hands. "I was just surprised. It seemed kinda unlikely that you'd know a demon."

"We  _ were  _ trying to kill each other at the time," Gabriel said. "Not that unlikely. Are you done interrogating me, or can we actually try to find out what happened?"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other. "If a Knight's that bad," Sam said, "maybe we should call Michael."

"Are you  _ kidding _ ?" Dean sputtered. "Call  _ Michael _ ? Are you forgetting-"

"I'm not forgetting anything, Dean," Sam interrupted him. "But last time we met nem, Michael didn't seem that bad! And we could use another archangel on our side."

"What, and forget how badly they screwed with us?" Dean scoffed.

"You don't seem to have a problem with Gabriel!"

"Objection," Gabriel said. "Your brother totally has a problem with me."

"You shut up," Dean snapped.

"See?"

"That's not my point." Sam said exasperatedly, pulling a face at both of them. "Look, I know both of them can be dicks-"

"I'm right here!" Gabriel reminded him loudly.

"-but neither of them are trying to kill us or do anything else to us anymore."

"And that makes them trustworthy?" Dean had crossed his arms.

"I am still literally standing next to you guys," Gabriel said.

Sam gave Gabriel a look that probably meant  _ please be quiet for a few seconds while I deal with this idiot  _ (and Gabriel may have been mentally paraphrasing, but who was gonna know?). "If it means they'll help us deal with this Knight, then I'm willing to ask for their help. Whether they're trustworthy or not."

"Seriously?" Gabriel complained. "I take the fall with Lucifer and let you guys escape, and this is the thanks I get?"

"That doesn't cancel out all the stuff you did before," Dean warned, pointing at Gabriel in a way that was probably meant to come off as intimidating.

"Yeah, yeah, I got that from your conversation from three seconds ago." Gabriel raised an eyebrow challengingly. "Are you gonna call Michael or not?" Whatever he thought of Michael, they  _ did  _ need as much power as they could on their side.

A Knight was nothing to let an old grudge get in the way of stopping.

"How are we gonna do that, summon them?"

Gabriel snorted. "Yeah, that'll go over  _ real  _ well."

Sam looked put out. "Unless you're offering to send them a message some other way, we don't exactly have an alternative."

They were right, but that didn't make Gabriel any happier about it. Pulling a face, he reached out and reconnected himself, calling out over the myriad chatter of other angels.  _ Michael, we've got an issue over here. Knight of Hell-sized issue. _

He'd barely withdrawn from the connection when Michael was abruptly there, wings flared irritably. " _ Please  _ tell me you're joking," was the first thing ne said.

"You think I'd joke about this?" It was a rhetorical question, and luckily Michael actually  _ got  _ that. Gabriel hoisted himself up so that he was sitting on the table, crossing one leg over the other.

"Who?" Michael demanded.

"She called herself Belial," Sam said.

Michael's gaze sharpened into worry for a moment, focusing on Gabriel and then moving back to Sam. "How did you run into a Knight of Hell?"

"Crowley called her." Dean seemed reluctant to say anything to Michael, if his expression was anything to go by. "The fucker wanted to hand us over. Probably just so he could keep his damn throne." The second half didn't seem directed towards anyone in particular.

"Sounds about right," Gabriel said. "Not that I know Crowley that well."

"Crowley?" Michael questioned. Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

"He set himself up as King downstairs," Sam said. "After, uh, Lucifer got taken out of the equation. Last time we dealt with a Knight-"

" _ Last  _ time?" Michael sounded incredulous. "Exactly how many Knights are we dealing with here?"

"Just one," Dean said curtly. "We dealt with Abaddon already, she's dead. And she had plenty of beef with Crowley over how he ran Hell."

"I've never heard of Crowley before." Michael looked thoughtful, eyes turned towards the floor. "If a Knight is back, then they wouldn't be content with anyone but Lucifer on the throne."

Sam stiffened in alarm. "You're not-"

"They wouldn't be able to open the Cage," Michael said. "Those seals have to be broken in a very specific order. Lilith would always have to be last - and since she's already dead, it's impossible to open. It was only ever meant to be unlocked once." Ne tapped nir fingers against the table. "Belial. Where have I heard..."

Michael faltered in the middle of the sentence, eyes shooting to Gabriel again.

"What?" Sam said. He glanced at Gabriel, then back at Michael, confusion evident.

"Nothing," Gabriel said sharply."Lucifer's not an option, so Belial's going to be doing her best to put herself on Crowley's throne. I'm guessing Abaddon did the same."

"...Yeah." Dean was staring at both of them with a puzzled frown. "Abaddon did a lot of crap. If we've got to deal with  _ that  _ all over again-"

"Probably," Gabriel interrupted, sliding off the table. "I'm gonna go talk to Castiel, see if he's got any insights."

"Gabriel, wait-"

* * *

 

Castiel was still at Hogwarts, which was lucky.

Everyone in the room - which was more than Gabriel had counted on - looked up sharply when he entered and almost immediately relaxed.

"Oh, it's just you," Balthazar said.

"Were you expecting someone else?" Gabriel questioned.

"The castle is being checked for remaining Death Eaters," Castiel said. "Apparently caution is the better choice for now. Most students have been told to remain in their dormitories."

'Most' apparently included everyone but Hermione, who was sandwiched in between Muriel and Castiel on the sofa. The Gryffindor common room was deserted, but Gabriel could sense the students upstairs, almost all of them very much awake.

Well, it wasn't like they would be able to hear what was going on in the common room.

Gabriel took the only empty armchair and settled into it. "And?"

"Nothing so far," Muriel said. "Did Michael go after you?"

"I called them over." Gabriel's face twisted into a frown at the surprise evident from all four of them. "Shut up. There was a problem."

"What kind of problem is that big?" Baltahzar's eyebrows were still making a valiant effort to get as close to his hairline as possible.

"Depends what you think of a Knight of Hell."

Muriel actually choked on her cup of tea.

"You can't be serious." Castiel's eyes were wider than Gabriel had ever seen them. Except maybe for when Castiel had figured out who he was.

"I  _ can, _ actually." Gabriel said it a little more irritably than was really necessary, but who gave a shit. "I don't joke about stuff like  _ this _ ."

"I thought they were all dead!" Muriel recovered, and managed to set her cup down without spilling any more. "How-"

"If I knew, I'd tell you."

Balthazar pressed the heels of his palms against his forehead like he was trying to ward off a headache. " _ Fuck.  _ How many?"

"Just one."

"What's a Knight?" Hermione asked. She looked surprised, but more by the force of the reactions of the angels around her. "A demon? You didn't seem to have that much trouble with them before."

"It's not that easy," Gabriel said.

"Why not?"

"Knights are the demonic equivalent of archangels," Muriel said. "In terms of how much more powerful they are than the rest of Hell, at least. And they're much more dangerous than the average demon."

Even if he hadn't been looking, Gabriel probably would have been able to feel the weight of Hermione's gaze on him. "They're fucking powerful," he said. "Even I'd have to go all-out to be able to beat one."

"Is it just one?" Castiel pressed. "This can't be a coincidence, so soon after Abaddon."

"Well,  _ I don't know.  _ She wasn't exactly jumping to share the details of whatever mysterious resurrection went on." Gabriel gestured widely and vaguely, then let his hands drop over the sides of the chair. "Abaddon escaped dying in the first place with some weird time shit and managing to stay under the radar long enough to get out of Dodge, as far as I can tell. I thought Belial was dead and in the ground."

The name seemed to drop over the conversation like a chilly blanket. Balthazar and Muriel glanced at each other warily. Castiel looked pensive.

"Can you bring a demon back from the dead?" Hermione said, piercing through the effect and probably totally unaware of it. "I know Aziraphale said that some demons could bring back humans, but does that apply to them? Another demon bringing a Knight back?"

"Demons and angels can bring back humans because we can find the soul." Castiel's gravelly voice seemed suited to the serious conversation. "When a human dies, the soul remains, be it in Heaven or Hell. When a demon dies, there's nothing left of them." He glanced at Gabriel. "If you're sure this Knight was dead-"

"I'm not."

All three of them gave him startled looks.

Hermione just furrowed her brow. "What happened, then?"

Gabriel sighed. This was not how he'd pictured spending the night. "The only reason I thought Belial was dead was because no one so much as heard of her for over four centuries. Knights of Hell  _ never  _ stay out of the picture that long."

"I thought it was Heaven that killed them," Muriel said. "It seemed like the sort of thing Michael would want to take care of."

Gabriel shook his head. "Cain went on some kind of spree. Before that, most of them were still alive."

"Cain?" Hermione repeated. "As in, Cain and Abel?"

"The Knights went off the radar, and you assumed Cain had done them in?" Balthazar spoke partly over Hermione, gaining an offended look he didn't seem to notice.

"Whoa, whoa. You just said only an archangel could kill a Knight," Hermione said.

"Or another Knight," Castiel replied. "Which Cain was. It seems odd that you would just assume that they were dead," he continued, switching his attention back to Gabriel.

"What would you have done?" Gabriel retorted.

"Hold on for  _ one  _ second!" Hermione held up both of her hands like a stop sign. "I get that I'm the only human in the room right now and you've got all this history together, but could you please try to remember for one second that I have  _ no  _ context for what you're talking about right now?"

Gabriel scrunched himself further into the chair, letting his legs stretch out. "Cain was a Knight of Hell," he said. "One of the first. I don't know what the rest of them did, but he went on an anti-Knight killing spree a millennia or so ago. No one ever heard from any of the Knights except Abaddon and a few others after that, and even they went quiet after a few centuries. Most of Heaven figured he'd killed them all."

"What about Cain, then?" Hermione was leaning forward. "What happened to him?"

"He's still around. Somewhere."

"It's possible he could have been involved," Castiel murmured. He was staring into the fire contemplatively. "If we don't know for sure that he killed them..."

Balthazar scoffed. "What, you think Cain managed to capture this Knight and keep them from escaping? Why let them go now, then?"

"I don't know."

"Castiel has a point," Muriel said. "Cain's the only one who knows what really happened. Whether he captured or killed them, or what might have brought them back. I don't doubt that he's involved in this."

Gabriel shifted, trying to dislodge the phantom ache of a blade in his side. He hadn't seen Cain since their last (disastrous) meeting, but it was all too likely that the remaining Knight had played a part in this new mess.

"This is all just us guessing, though," Balthazar pointed out. "We've got no clue if Cain knows who killed her. If she ever died in the first place."

"Can think of someone else who could have?" Muriel challenged him. "Cain's our best guess."

"Where is he, then?" Hermione made it sound so  _ simple. _

"Probably not where he was last time I saw him," Gabriel said. "If he was involved, he's going to be hiding."

Castiel frowned. "When did  _ you  _ last see Cain?"

"August." Gabriel said simply, internally smirking at the bewilderment on Castiel's face.

"I'm not even going to ask," Balthazar said. "D'you think he could have been involved?"

"He tried to stab me, so I'm gonna go with yeah," Gabriel said sarcastically.

Hermione frowned, looking suddenly worried. " _ Stab  _ you? Why?"

"I think you may have missed the bit where angels and demons don't like each other," Balthazar said before Gabriel could reply.

"I bet Michael wasn't happy," Muriel murmured. "Where are they, anyway?"

"Dunno." Gabriel shrugged as best he could while slumped in the unfairly comfortable armchair. "They were with the Winchesters when I left."

"Really?" Castiel couldn't hide his skepticism. "You...thought it was wise to leave them alone together?"

"I thought I'd come back here and see how things were going." Gabriel pushed himself to his feet smoothly, stretching his hands behind his back in a falsely relaxed gesture. "If we're done here..."

Gabriel's wings fanned out and he took off.

* * *

 

There was still heavy dark magic hanging around the Astronomy tower, so he ended up on top of Ravenclaw tower. It was a good vantage point, if not the most convenient one.

Why  _ Belial _ ?

Gabriel sagged against the tiles of the roof behind him. Any other Knight, he could have dealt with.  _ Easily.  _ So of course it  _ had  _ to be one of Lucifer's lieutenants that showed up and not someone more like Abaddon - less powerful, more easily beaten.

Less...well. Gabriel hadn't forgotten Belial's origins.

He slumped further down, ignoring the cold wetness of the roof. He hadn't forgotten what had happened  _ last  _ time they'd run into each other, either. What had taken place in the mess that was Sodom and Gomorrah - before they were destroyed - was seemingly seared into his memory, no matter how much he liked to pretend otherwise.

That was probably what Michael had been remembering. They hadn't been there for the fight itself - only a small part of the aftermath. Gabriel scowled at the memory (he was doing that a lot whenever Michael came into the equation). Michael had been distant and coldly official, as per usual, even with Gabriel nearly bleeding out on the scorched earth.

Raphael, when Gabriel saw them later, had come the closest to cursing out Michael that Gabriel had ever seen them. It had been reassuring, then, to have at least one sibling who acted like they actually cared about Gabriel. Even if the caring did come in a sort of aggressively worried fashion.

He'd take that over the Raphael who liked following in Michael's footsteps anytime, though.

Gabriel groaned, pressing his palms against his face.  _ Fuck.  _ He was sitting up here sulking and being nostalgic and  _ stupid.  _ It was one Knight. Even on his own (as if Michael wouldn't insist on helping) he had more than just a decent chance at winning. The first time had been a fluke.

He could do this.

* * *

 

Gabriel had retreated inside to the Ravenclaw common room - not the dorms, then he'd have to talk to people, and word had no doubt gotten out about the crazy things he'd been seen doing during the attack - when Muriel joined him.

"Um," was the first thing she said, catching sight of the statue of Rowena. Gabriel grinned, glancing over at it as well.

"Accurate or not?"

"Somewhat," said Muriel, still looking bewildered. "I - er, Michael's returned."

Gabriel's mood dropped. "And?" He asked after a moment had passed and Muriel didn't continue.

"They asked if I would go see if you'd come," Muriel said. "They brought Aziraphale and another angel named Verchiel. I think it's rather important."

"Verchiel?" Gabriel remembered her - she'd been one of the angels he had run into while fixing what Metatron had done to the gates. "Why her?"

Muriel just shrugged. "I assumed it was because Michael thought she would be able to help."

"And  _ Aziraphale _ ?" Gabriel had been distracted by the mention of Verchiel, but Michael bringing Aziraphale on this was just plain odd.

Muriel shrugged again. "He seemed rather uncomfortable around Michael. I understand why, though. Are you-"

" _ Yes,  _ I'm coming." Gabriel stood up. "I can hardly say no, if it's about Belial."

"It most likely is," Muriel agreed. She seemed distracted, and kept glancing down at the floor or at the statue - Gabriel could tell something was occupying her thoughts.

"Alright," he said. "Spill. What's on your mind?"

Muriel started almost guiltily. "I...noticed you didn't seem to get along that well with Michael." She said eventually.

"What about it?" Gabriel asked flatly.

"Is it going to be a problem?" Muriel questioned. "Both of you together is the surest way to defeat Belial, but if you can't work-"

"It'll be fine." Gabriel cut her off. "Where am I supposed to be going?" Michael wasn't inside Hogwarts, or he would have known.

"Grimmauld Place." Muriel looked frustrated. "Are you sure-"

" _ Yes,  _ I'm sure."

"I'm only pointing it out because I haven't seen you so much as speak to each other  _ once _ except when you were forced to," Muriel retorted.

"I think we're capable of talking to each other long enough to kill  _ one  _ Knight," Gabriel snapped back. "Neither of us are idiots."

"No, you're two archangels with a grudge." Muriel's reply was whip-fast. " _ Any _ of us knows how dangerous that can be. I won't ask forgiveness for being worried about how well this is going to go."

"Look-" Gabriel turned sharply to face her. "I  _ know  _ what's going on. I'm kind of  _ in the middle of it.  _ But I can put it aside for a few fucking days if killing this Knight means I have to work with Michael. I'm mature like that." When in doubt, be sarcastic.

Muriel's lips were pursed in a way surprisingly reminiscent of McGonagall. "Let's just go," she said. "I'm sure Michael's wondering what's taking me so long."

"Fine by me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...no fun times for Gabe.
> 
> Comment, please!


	71. Argument

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohohohohohohohohoho
> 
> Things are heating up! I think a lot of you will like this chapter. :)
> 
> This is probably either a very early or a very late chapter, because I'm in a completely different timezone at the moment and can't actually tell. I could if I checked my phone, but it's charging in a different room and I'm lazy. This vacation is fun so far, except for jet lag. Jet lag can get fucked.
> 
> EDIT: this chapter now features some cool enochian text! I'm gonna say I've never used it before for angel-talk because this is the first time Enochian has been spoken aloud. I would do a cool font for Norse language, too, but that's too much work to edit in and I can't enable more than one work skin on this work.
> 
> If it's too hard to read, though, let me know!

Michael and the others had gathered in a drawing room on the second floor, and Gabriel dropped into their midst silently. Muriel was only seconds behind him.

Aziraphale _did_ look uncomfortable. He was hovering near the bookshelf on one side of the room, opposite Michael, but the fact that he wasn't already halfway through one of the thick magic tomes spoke volumes about _how_ uncomfortable he was.

Verchiel, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease around Michael. Gabriel thought she was probably faking part of it, but her professional demeanor made it obvious why Michael had asked her to come down. She and Michael glanced up from an interrupted conversation.

"And here I thought you might not come." Balthazar was sprawled in an armchair, posture purposefully casual.

"Shows what you know." Gabriel rested his hands in his pockets. "Where's the Order?"

"Downstairs," Castiel said. "I believe they're discussing what to do about Voldemort."

Verchiel frowned. "Is this person an issue?"

"Not to us," Michael said. "Not yet, at least. We can deal with him later. We've got bigger issues at the moment."

"It's just a Knight," Gabriel scoffed.

"That's the problem." Aziraphale had drifted closer. Worry had lined his forehead. "It isn't just _one_ of them."

_What._

"Fuck," Gabriel said, but it wasn't even close to expressing just how screwed they were. _Two_ Knights? Three? "Who else?"

"Paimon." Michael's face was set into determined lines. "I went and had a talk with Cain."

"We thought he might have been involved." Castiel looked determined, as opposed to afraid, but then again he _had_ gone up against worse than a Knight. "What did he say?"

"Not much. He wasn't inclined to share, least of all with me." Michael wasn't quite pacing, but ne wasn't staying still either. "He didn't say _how_ he did it, but it was implied that neither of them were dead in the first place."

Gabriel assumed 'them' referred to the _two_ Knights they were supposed to deal with now. "Well, that's just great. Now we know their origin story. He didn't happen to hand over a convenient shortcut for killing them, did he?"

"The only weapon we don't already possess that works against them is the First Blade," Castiel reminded him - as if Gabriel didn't already know. Castiel needed to grow a sense of humor. "Which, of course, without the Mark is useless."

"Two fucking Knights." Balthazar had gone paler. “Just our luck.”

"At least we have two archangels on our side," Muriel offered, though she didn't look that much more optimistic.

"Unless we can corned them alone and make sure the other doesn't snow up-" Michael began.

"Why do it one at a time?" Gabriel interrupted. "If we do that whoever's second is going to be a lot more difficult. There's two of us, two of them, we can go after them separately."

Skepticism settled on Michael's face. "After last time?"

Five other angels in the room that Gabriel would have been perfectly happy _never_ explaining what had happened to, and Michael had to go and bring that up. Gabriel crossed his arms. "'Last time' was over two millennia ago. I think I'm good."

"It was Belial then, too." Michael reminded him - as if Gabriel needed reminding. "Don't think this is a coincidence, Gabriel, Cain _knew_ what happened."

"Well, good for him," Gabriel snapped. "That doesn't change anything."

Aziraphale was looking between the two of them, bewildered. "What are-"

"Now is _not_ the time to be cocky." Michael talked over Aziraphale like ne hadn't even heard him.

"I'm not being _cocky,_ I'm saying I've taken a Knight before-"

" _Taken_ ?" Michael said incredulously. "You almost _died_ -"

"Since when do _you_ care?"

Balthazar's armchair had been empty for the last few minutes, and Aziraphale was edging towards the door with Muriel. Castiel had retreated towards the opposite end of the room. Verchiel had, very carefully, gotten to her feet and sidled away. Neither Gabriel nor Michael was paying any attention to them.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Michael demanded. Nir fists were clenched at nir sides.

"It means that if you're so worried about what happened to me _last time_ then _now's_ a funny time to start showing it," Gabriel retorted.

"Er," Aziraphale said, "Perhaps we should concentrate on the issue of the Knights?"

"I am _trying_ to." Michael said curtly, turning nir head sharply to look at Aziraphale. "Unless you've got any bright ideas, stay out of it."

"We do have bigger problems than history at the moment," Verchiel pointed out. "You two are the only ones with the power to face a Knight, unless He decides to intervene."

Castiel scoffed. "If He felt like returning at all."

Gabriel felt like his blood had turned to ice.

"What?" Michael questioned sharply. Gabriel let his expression smooth out.

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that-"

"I said it's _nothing._ It's not _anything_ important."

He could see Michael's eyes move to Castiel, see nem make the connection.

"Really?" Anger and exasperation - two of Michael's favorite emotions. "You want to bring this up now?"

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're picking a fight."

"So _what_?"

Aziraphale had disappeared out the door. Muriel was on his heels. Castiel and Verchiel had disappeared through various other exits.

"I know what this is about, and now's not the time-"

"I'm _sorry_ , do you not like being reminded of how you tried to keep it a _secret_ ?" Gabriel lashed out. "From _me_?" Fury was building up in him, old emotions long ago bottled up breaking out and surging to the surface.

"I didn't tell _anyone,_ " Michael bit out. "I wasn't excluding you specifically! I was trying to keep anyone else from finding out-"

"And that worked _so_ well!"

"I didn't tell anyone He was gone because I thought I _had_ to!" Michael shouted. "If it had gotten out-"

"Apparently, it has! What, did you think Heaven would fall to pieces if anyone found out?" Gabriel spat.

"You've made it pretty clear that you thought it already had!"

"You didn't have _any_ right to keep it secret!" Gabriel was too furious to care that he could hear thunder rumbling outside.

"Why do you care so much about this?" Michael demanded.

"Because you were _wrong_ !" Gabriel exploded. "Because you still _refuse_ to admit that your only justification for what you did is in pieces! Oh no, they know you're just _bullshitting_ your way through things because there's no one telling you what to do-"

"I was doing the best that I could!" Michael was screaming at him now, just as furious as Gabriel. "Heaven is _built_ on order!"

"So you'll do anything to keep that order?" Gabriel challenged him. "Like letting Raphael put Naomi in charge of _making_ them obey?"

"I had nothing to do with-"

"No, you just let it happen! Don't you dare tell me that you didn't know if was happening!"

"Is what it's like now what you want?" Michael demanded. "Heaven in _chaos_ ? Angels killing each other to try and be the one giving orders? _None_ of us are meant to try and choose what we do for ourselves!"

"Of course I don't think this is better-"

"Then _what,_ Gabriel?"

The sound of his name in Enochian shocked Gabriel down to his core. No one had called him that in-

"Shut up." He didn't mean to reply in Enochian as well, but it came out like that.

"You don't get to tell me I was wrong when you're the one who left." Michael's words were sharp as ice. The harshness of Enochian syllables didn't make them any softer.

"Don't you dare-"

"I'll dare whatever I want! You're the one who chose to leave!"

"What was my alternative? Stay and watch you cast down more angels?" Gabriel spat. "Do not try and tell me that they all deserved it, because I know they didn't!"

"You had a choice-"

"No, I didn't have a choice! You never gave me one! You expected me to fall into line like a good little soldier!"

"We are soldiers!" Michael snapped.

"I was your sibling!" Gabriel yelled.

* * *

 Downstairs, all five angels winced.

"Dear," said Aziraphale faintly. "That one was a bit below the belt."

"I think Michael deserved that one, actually," Castiel muttered.

* * *

 "So you decided to abandon us?" Michael seethed.

"We weren't an 'us' anymore! Heaven was you and your little foot soldiers who you couldn't have given less of a shit about-"

"I cared what happened-"

"You had a fucking funny way of showing it, then!" Gabriel shouted over nem.

"If you care so much about fixing things then why didn't you try back then?" Michael demanded. "Or do you just enjoy blaming me for everything?"

"What could I have done? Talk to you about it and hope you'd actually change things? Don't pretend you were the same as you are now, Michael!" Gabriel didn't want to think about what Michael might have done to him then if he'd expressed the slightest doubt.

"You didn't even try-"

"Because you would have handed me over to Naomi! Made me the soldier you wanted!"

Michael looked like Gabriel had physically struck nem. "How could you think that?"

"Because we all saw what happened to Lucifer! Tell me, Michael, what exactly was I supposed to think?"

"You're my sibling, I wouldn't-"

"Oh, so I'm your sibling when it comes to torture but not when Father is gone?" Gabriel demanded. "The rest of Heaven doesn't count as your siblings? You don't care if they were forced to meet with Naomi? Make up your mind!"

"Everything I did, I thought I was doing the right thing."

"And that makes it right?" Gabriel spat. "I don't believe you. And here I was thinking humanity had actually made you better."

"How dare you," Michael hissed. "I've learned from my mistakes-"

"Is that why you're insisting you were always in the right?"

"You don't understand!"

"Then explain it to me!" Gabriel shouted. "If you're so sure of everything, then explain how you're right, because I don't see it!"

Michael faltered at that. Nir hands were curled to tightly into fists it looked painful. Gabriel couldn't bring himself to care.

"Get out."

"What?" For a minute Gabriel thought he'd heard wrong. 

"I said get out!"

"Yeah, that's going to solve everything!" Gabriel shouted back. He couldn't believe Michael was doing this - again. "We argue, your solution is always the same, isn't it, shout at me to go away and the problem solves itself!"

"Just go!" Michael's Grace lashed out, fiery and furious, and Gabriel fled.

* * *

 The five downstairs heard a heavy thud and a crash that sounded like a vase breaking on the floor. Michael, faintly through the floor separating them, swore viciously in Enochian. It was enough to make some of them wish there was a little more than _just_ a floor in between them and the angry archangel.

"That went _fabulously,_ " Balthazar huffed. "There go our good chances with the Knights."

"They wouldn't just _refuse_ to help." Aziraphale was wringing his hands together worriedly. "Not with something like this. Would they?"

"Was I the only one who heard them _screaming_ at each other three seconds ago?" Disbelief dripped from Balthazar's voice.

"We can't say for sure if they would." Castiel cast a wary glance at the ceiling. "Whether or not they'll allow their own feelings to get in the way of solving this issue..."

"Judging by that display, they just might." Verchiel was arguably the most shocked out of all of them. Then again, she'd only been there for about half an hour. "Are they normally like this?"

"Normally, they just avoid each other," Muriel said. "I think it was a mutual agreement to try and stop...well, _this_ kind of thing from happening."

"And that's worked just fantastically," Bathazar muttered.

"We've got to do _something,_ " Aziraphale said.

"If you want to go upstairs and try to get Michael to see sense," Castiel said, "be my guest."

"I don't give a flying fuck whether they 'see sense'," Balthazar scoffed, ignoring Aziraphale's tut of disapproval. "I'd just like them to be able to get along long enough to kill a few Knights. After that they can go back to shouting, as long as I'm nowhere nearby."

Verchiel gave him a flat look. "You can't just think about yourself in a situation like this."

"Says who?"

"What the hell is going on?"

All five of them turned to see Hermione staring them down.

"I get here and someone's having a fight and you're just _standing_ here instead of doing anything about it!" Hermione huffed. "Would someone _please_ explain what's going on? Where's Gabriel?"

All the angels glanced at each other.

"We're not really sure," Muriel said. It was true - Gabriel wasn't upstairs anymore, and he could have gone anywhere. Wherever he'd gone, though, was probably nowhere nearby.

"Where's Michael, then?"

Muriel couldn't help but glance upstairs. Hermione followed the glance, and moved towards the staircase.

"Wait just a moment!" Aziraphale hurriedly put himself in between her and the stairs. "I'm not sure that's a good idea-"

"Why not?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Because you're about to walk up to an archangel who's just come out of an argument," Balthazar said, as if it should have been obvious.

"Oh, Merlin." Hermione rolled her eyes. "They were fighting with Gabriel, weren't they?" She sounded like she knew the answer already.

"Were you expecting something like this?" Castiel looked startled.

"They've been half a second away from something like this ever since Michael got their memories back," Hermione said, exasperation coloring her tone. "I _tried_ to tell them that pretending nothing was wrong wasn't going to do anything, but they refused to talk about it, much less to each other." She tried to go around Aziraphale, but he held out an arm in front of her.

"Just a moment-"

"Get out of my way," Hermione tried to push Aziraphale's arm down, and he was startled enough that he let her. "Michael's my friend. I'm not going to be in any danger or whatever you think they're going to do." She strode purposefully upstairs and disappeared around the newel post at the landing.

The floorboards complained under a set of determined feet, a door's hinges creaked once, then twice, and there was a soft _thud_ and _click_ as a door closed.

Five angels were left staring up the stairs after her.

"I'm going to leave," Balthazar said. "I don't want to see what might happen next."

"Michael's not going to do anything to her," Muriel said, somewhat waspishly.

"Are you sure?" Aziraphale sounded worried.

"Surely Michael knows how to control their temper around humans," Verchiel said.

"Well," Balthazar announced, " _I'm_ not sticking around to find out." He made good on it and vanished.

"I'll go find him and make sure he doesn't do anything crazy," Muriel volunteered. That left Castiel, Verchiel, and Aziraphale looking at each other awkwardly and trying not to eavesdrop on the quiet conversation upstairs.

"I heard this place has a library," Aziraphale said. "We may as well find something to do."

* * *

 If he was completely honest with himself, Gabriel was sulking.

Maybe sulking wasn't the right word, but it was close. He'd gone as far away as he could, without ending up in the middle of the Pacific. The situation was entirely too similar to what had happened directly before he'd left for his tastes.

There wasn't enough oxygen to talk properly this high in the Himalayas, but there wasn't anyone to talk to. Preferably, it would _stay_ that way.

The last thing Gabriel wanted right now was someone coming and trying to talk to him.

If he'd been human - ignoring the fact that he would have been dead this high up with so little air - the drop his legs were dangling over probably would have scared him shitless. The only real annoyance for him was the snow, and he'd melted most of that into steam in an uncontrolled flash of Grace.

It had probably been a bad idea to do something like that so close to humans - however far down the mountain they were - but Gabriel didn't care at the moment.

He felt almost numb.

Michael had basically _attacked_ him. He didn't know why he bothered to hope - _think,_ he corrected himself sharply - that Michael experiencing humanity would change anything. Ne were just as self-assured as ne were before, just as fucking _righteous_ -

Gabriel tried to mentally change the subject, but his mind refused to let go of what had just happened.

He didn't bother keeping track of how long he sat there. The sky darkened overhead until it was nearly black. It was probably well below zero, but even in a light jacket it didn't affect Gabriel.

The darkness, however, did, and if not for the flare of Grace and light he wouldn't have been able to entirely make out Michael's body against the dark backdrop of rock.

"What are you doing here?" Gabriel was on his feet in a second. If he was fast enough-

"I came to apologize." Michael didn't attempt to close the distance between them. Ne didn't seem bothered by the lack of oxygen. Gabriel could already feel the air thickening, particles drawing in closer so Michael could fill nir vessel's lungs and talk as much as ne wanted.

"Really." The sarcastic retort leaped to Gabriel's lips instinctively. What the hell did Michael want now?

"Yes. I-" If he wasn't mistaken, Michael looked almost embarrassed - or guilty. "I lost my temper. I shouldn't have."

"Great. You apologized. Now you can leave."

"It's not just that, Gabriel."

"Then _what_?"

Michael inhaled slowly. "I know I said that I thought I was right," ne said. "About a lot of things. And I did. But...'thought' is the key word there. I...a lot of it wasn't right. And I get that." Ne held up a hand when Gabriel opened his mouth to speak. "Just let me talk. Please. I want you to understand."

Gabriel stayed silent. Curiosity, in this case, overwhelmed the part of his mind that said _fuck Michael and just leave_.

"I was wrong," Michael said. "I had to figure things out on my own. It probably would have helped if I'd told you, but I convinced myself that I was doing what was right and what was best. And I wasn't. I - kind of panicked. I _did_ panic. When I realized He was gone. I thought if anyone found out they'd start doubting, that we'd have a repeat of Lucifer and-"

Michael's voice _broke,_ and Gabriel was left staring at the rock they were standing on because it seemed wrong, somehow, to keep looking at nem when ne was like this.

"I couldn't do that again." Michael's voice was rough and Gabriel pretended he didn't hear anything out of the ordinary. "I could _never_ have done that again. Not to that extent."

"But you were okay with starting up the Apocalypse?" Gabriel knew he sounded bitter.

"I thought I had to." Michael sounded like ne was pleading with Gabriel. "If I ever thought I'd had a choice in it, I - I would have done something else. But all I _had_ was what He told me before He left. I thought - if I did everything right..."

Michael inhaled sharply again, like ne was struggling for breath even though Gabriel knew ne couldn't be. "I thought He might come back."

Michael was being bluntly honest with him, and Gabriel didn't know how to handle it.

"Kinda selfish." It was a mutter, if anything. Gabriel knew all too well what Michael must have been feeling. _He'd_ looked, long before Castiel had. It was a very certain kind of desperation.

The comment, though, was enough to startle a laugh out of Michael. "Yeah," ne said. "It is. I was an asshole."

Gabriel didn't disagree, but it felt strangely rude to say that out loud. He glanced up warily, but Michael seemed to have mostly recovered. Ne wiped nir eyes, and Gabriel pretended he didn’t see.

"I'm sorry," Michael said. "That you ever felt like you had no choice but to leave. I - saying I never meant for you to feel like that is - it's an excuse. Whatever I meant to do - all my good intentions got twisted up along the way and I never bothered untangling them. And I only paid the price after the rest of you did. And now I realize what I’ve done - how I would have destroyed people like Hermione. Like my mum." Ne paused, but Gabriel didn't say anything. What could he say?

"I don't want to make excuses for anything," Michael said eventually. "I know I can't do that and ask you to forgive me. I'm not asking for forgiveness at all. I'd just like..." Ne sighed. "Something else. Something that's not what we had before. That was never really going to work."

How was Gabriel supposed to be angry at Michael when ne was in front of him admitting that Gabriel was right to blame him?

"I thought about what I could have done." Gabriel didn't know where the admission came from. "If I'd stayed," he clarified, not looking Michael in the eye. "What I could have done to fix things. To try and make it better."

"You were right, though." Michael said. "Back then, I wouldn't have listened."

"I still told myself I could have tried." Gabriel fisted his hands where they sat in the pockets of his jacket. "Running away was-" _I was a coward for doing it._

"Don't beat yourself up about it." Michael sounded tired. "I shouldn't have, so don't do it to yourself. You weren't wrong to want to get away from all that."

"Would you have done it?" Gabriel asked sardonically.

"I don't know," Michael replied. "I couldn't say what I would have done in your position."

They stood like that, neither moving towards the other. There was some sort of moment happening, but Gabriel couldn't have said whether it was a good one or not.

"What are you asking for?" Gabriel asked. A Michael who wanted something was a lot easier to understand than this mysterious Michael who considered other people’s feelings so carefully.

"I'm not asking you to tell me anything." Michael managed a small smile. "Just letting you know that you don't have to keep everything to yourself."

Gabriel let a breath filter out of his mouth slowly and wondered when things had changed so much when a minute ago he'd been sulking over how they hadn't. "What about Belial?" He asked warily.

Michael's smile faded. "I still don't think you should face her on your own."

"I know last time went badly," Gabriel huffed. _I was kind of there._ "But it's not like I haven't grown up. It was ages ago, Michael. Like, _literal_ ages, I’m pretty sure."

"I know," Michael said quietly. "But I don't want you to end up like that again - or worse - when we've just started to get somewhere. And Belial's had time to gain power, too."

"Trust me," Gabriel said. "She's not going to see anything I've got in store coming."

“...If you’re sure.”

Gabriel decided that was as good as he was going to get. He stood, awkwardly facing Michael, not sure whether to turn and leave or offer some other tidbit of conversation they could use. He felt as though he were teetering on the edge of something with Michael, and he didn’t know whether to jump or not.

“You should come over,” Michael said abruptly. “Sometime. My mum liked you.”

“Everyone likes me,” Gabriel replied automatically. Michael snorted. That was a good sign for them, right? “Are you telling me you don’t want me around just ‘cause I’m me?”

“I see you at school,” Michael said.

“Not a single creature in this world could get sick of me, ever,” Gabriel said, reading (and paraphrasing) between the lines. “But I could stand here and talk about how awesome I am until we run out of air to talk with and I’d still never finish. I’ve got other places to be.”

Michael nods, not offering the least bit of objection. “I’ll see you at Hogwarts, then.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said, and found he wasn’t dreading the moment. “See you then.”

Maybe it would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH BOY YOU TWO
> 
> This was sad to write but also kind of fun? I felt like we really needed to see Michael's point of view on all this.
> 
> Comment, please!


	72. Final Fightish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another early chapter day, because we're traveling back up to Madrid tomorrow and so I probably won't have time to post! So happy early birthday to me while we're at it, because that's tomorrow too. :)
> 
> Good thing we got all that out there with Michael and Gabriel, huh? I'm glad you guys liked the last chapter. I was looking for a way to get Michael to get nir side of everything out there without having Gabriel eavesdrop on a conversation or something.
> 
> Anyway! This chapter is just as full of stuff happening as the last one, so make sure you get everything! We're really coming up on the final arc here.

Neither of them went straight back to Grimmauld Place; even the Order was wary about staying there too long. Narcissa and Draco had been given the secret, and no one was sure whether or not they'd give it away.

Hogwarts didn't feel much better, though.

Most of the students were either in shock or mourning over Dumbledore's death. The castle might as well have been draped in black everywhere. The upside, in Gabriel's opinion, was that classes had been cancelled while McGonagall helped organize the funeral and all other matters.

Parents had shown up and tried to take their kids home with them. Some went, some refused to leave until after the funeral. Hogsmeade was crammed with people traveling in to attend.

"I'm wondering if you're actually going to show up for it."

Gabriel shrugged. He was perched in a window seat in the Ravenclaw common room that overlooked the lake. "Maybe."

"People are going to expect you to," Michael reminded him. Ne was sitting nearby in a chair, flipping absently through a textbook.

"They're still expecting an explanation for what I did that night," Gabriel said. "They can stand to be disappointed."

There was a flash of a grin on Michael's face. Ne changed the subject, flipping a page in the book ne was reading. "What are you looking at?"

"I thought there might be something more interesting outside." The other Ravenclaws were either in the dorms or elsewhere in the castle and Gabriel had never been so bored. "All that's happened is the squid showing up for a minute. Why is there even a giant squid in this lake in the first place?" He couldn’t see it, but he knew it was in there.

"No idea," Michael said. "Hagrid, probably." Ne had a point, Gabriel mused. "What about afterwards?"

"What?"

"Afterwards," Michael repeated. "After the funeral. Voldemort's still alive, even if the Horcruxes are gone."

"He just lost half his forces," Gabriel pointed out. "I doubt he'll be trying anything soon."

"Dumbledore's dead," Michael countered. "That's going to make him more confident. If he manages to recruit enough people, then he'll start attacking again. And if the Knights are providing demons, he'll have a lot of volunteers."

"Alright, I get your point." Gabriel swing his legs off the ledge of the seat, dropping down to the floor. "What are you suggesting?"

"We  _ could  _ just track him down to wherever he's hiding." Michael closed the book, putting it to the side.

"Take the fight to him?"

"Basically. But wherever he's hiding is his territory, and I'd like to give him as few advantages as possible, so let's call that Plan B."

"Normally I'd come up with Plan A first." Gabriel draped himself over a chair. "Got one of those?"

"You can't think of anything?" It was a lighthearted jab.

"You're the general here." Gabriel threaded his hands together behind his head and wondered at how he managed to say that without any venom, just teasing. "If we had a way of luring him out...it would have to be something pretty big to get him into the open.

"Regular demons won't be an issue, at least."

"The Knights will, if they show up."

"I doubt they will. To protect him?" Michael's skepticism was clear. "They're not going to be that invested in keeping him safe."

"I don't get why magic's that interesting to them," Gabriel complained. "It's just magic. It might be a different kind, but there's plenty of it back where they can get to it more easily."

"Greed?" Michael suggested. "It's different. That's probably a good enough justification for them. That, and it reacts weirdly with Grace."

Gabriel looked over at nem. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't you ever notice?" Michael looked surprised. "For me, magic's been more difficult ever since I got my Grace back. Like they're opposites repelling each other."

That would explain a lot, actually. Gabriel had never been one to use magic when he could use Grace, but the difficulty he'd had in earlier years suddenly made a startling amount of sense.

"They don't know that," he said eventually. There was an idea pulling itself together in his head, but he didn't want to mention it right then. If he could manage it, though...

Michael shrugged. "Let's hope they don't find out, then."

* * *

 

The funeral was a grand affair that Gabriel did  _ not  _ attend, probably to the delight of the myriad journalists there.

He did discover that there was nothing on Grace or magic or how they interacted in Muriel's secret Founder room (and he hadn't asked her about it, since she had been down at the funeral). There wasn't anything she'd written down about it, much less in the books lining the shelves.

The only interesting thing that happened all day was Fawkes showing up.

Gabriel had retreated to the Astronomy tower and was leaning over the railing when there was a crackle of flames and Fawkes settled onto the railing next to him.

"Why aren't you down there?" Gabriel asked. He'd seen too much to be weirded out by a bird visiting him.

Fawkes made a high, sad sound and scooted closer to Gabriel, claws scraping against the railing. Gabriel raised one hand to scratch at the longer feathers onto his head, which Fawkes seemed to like.

"I would've thought you'd like Michael better," Gabriel muttered. "Seeing as you're both winged beings with a thing for fire." Fawkes keened and pressed his head into Gabriel's hand. "Alright, I get it. Less talking, more petting."

Gabriel stopped for a minute to hoist himself up to sit on the railing. He leaned against the wall where the railing ended, twining his feet between the bars. Just because the fall wouldn't kill him didn't mean he wanted to fall.

Fawkes scooted closer again, trilling insistently. His eyes fell shut when Gabriel started scratching again, and if birds could smile Fawkes was doing it.

Eventually Fawkes shifted away, ruffling his wings. Gabriel ran a few fingers absentmindedly over the phoenix's primaries. They did look a bit like Michael's, if a little more feathery and grounded in physical form.

From here, Gabriel could see a few people drifting across the lawn - probably students returning to the school. He couldn't see the ceremony from where he sat, but Gabriel didn't particularly want to. He was content with avoiding the mass of humans who wanted answers he didn't want to give and invasive journalists who would want a piece on why he hadn't come and what had happened the night Dumbledore died.

No, thanks.

Fawkes made another keening noise, resting his head on Gabriel's knee. If he had been bird-smiling before, now he looked distinctly sad.

"What, are you sad about Dumbledore?" That got another sad  _ cree  _ in reply. "I don't see why." Fawkes poked his beak sharply into Gabriel's knee. "Fine, fine. No bad-mouthing the dead."

He seemed to have offended the phoenix. Fawkes hopped away, ducking his head under his wing like he was trying to groom himself.

"Oh, I see how it is." Fawkes didn't react. Gabriel was getting snubbed by a bird.

Gabriel huffed and looked away. The view was kind of impressive, even for someone who'd been on top of mountains it usually took months to climb. Go too far up, and the clouds covered most of the view. But the vista of mountains didn't make him feel any better about what he knew was looming in the proverbial distance.

"Why do I get the feeling this is a calm before the storm?" He murmured.

* * *

 

The metaphorical storm hovered in the wings while Michael unveiled nir idea.

"I thought all the Horcruxes were destroyed," Hermione said.

"Voldemort doesn't know that," Michael pointed out. There was a map of Diagon Alley spread over a table that had been, apparently, left behind in the abandoned classroom they were avoiding other people's attention in. "If he thinks one of them is at risk, he'll come and try to protect it."

"He's lost half his forces," Luna said. "I don't think he'd risk it."

"It's a part of his soul," Gabriel said. "Or at least he thinks it is. I'm still not sure how it works. Point is, Voldemort's desperate for immortality. Desperation makes people idiots." Even if they were already idiots. "And Dumbledore's death is going to make him more confident."

Hermione nodded, looking thoughtful. "So what are you planning?"

"The one Gabriel found was hidden in Gringotts." Michael tapped where the building was marked on the map. "With the dragon gone, a lot of the old vaults are already in danger."

"How do we get a Death Eater to realize that without exposing the plan?" Hermione questioned.

"The vaults are at risk," Michael repeated. "There's probably at least one in Gringotts keeping an eye on things. You can't go into someone else's vault without a Ministry order, so Voldemort will probably have someone watching in case a team from the Ministry  _ does  _ show up to try and grab the Horcrux."

"Which isn't there," Hermione said, nodding again. "And then?"

"Then we wait for him to show up and kill him," Gabriel said bluntly.

"In the middle of Diagon Alley?"

"We'll think of something to deal with that," Michael said. "Obviously we're not going to have people caught in the crossfire if we can help it."

"We can't exactly issue a warning." Hermione was frowning at the map.

"The Death Eaters would notice if we did," Luna said. "If he's got them in or around the bank there will definitely be more in the Alley itself."

"You think so?" Michael sounded surprised, more so that Luna had thought of it.

"It's what I'd do," Luna said dreamily.

"What about Fred and George?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"What about them?" Gabriel asked, wondering if he was missing something.

"They've got an entire joke store full of their inventions," Hermione said. "Maybe they could invent - I don't know, some sort of delayed mechanism that we can trigger that won't go off in the presence of Death Eaters."

"They're only wizards," Michael said.

"Nah, she's got a point." Gabriel countered. "Only problem is, didn't they spend a year inventing all that? We're kind of short on time."

"That's only because they made so much of it," Hermione said. "I mean I'm sure they could think up  _ something  _ quickly-"

"Even if it turns out they can't, we might as well ask," Luna said.

"And what do we do if they don't have a solution?" Michael asked.

"We could at least ask before we start thinking up Plan B's," Hermione told nem.

"I'll go and ask," Gabriel interrupted. "It'll be better than standing here listening to you argue about it."

* * *

 

"Hm."

"Well-"

"It may be tricky..."

"Say if we used whatever magic those dark marks have as a trigger," Fred mused. "If this thing detects that, it goes off."

"What about not going off in the presence of a Death Eater, though?" George reminded him. "We don't want them knowing about this."

"Well, maybe it doesn't go off if it detects it within a few feet of itself-"

"How's that help whoever's holding it?"

"Hear me out, maybe if it's not an actual  _ alarm,  _ more like it prints out some sort of warning-"

"Can you do it or not?" Gabriel interrupted the back-and-forth conversation. Both twins looked so offended that he knew it was fake.

"Of course!"

"The Ministry already loves the shield hats and such," George told him. "We're not just in the line of joke stuff anymore. We can put something together, easy."

"Easy-ish."

"It'll take a while-"

"Well, not a while-"

"A month?"

"Nah, not a month."

"We'll get back to you," they said in unison.

Gabriel decided to leave it at that.

* * *

 

"Assuming we have Fred and George's thing or whatever it ends up being-"

"We can't assume," Michael said sharply. "This is serious, Gabriel."

"I'm being serious!" Gabriel spread his hands. " _ Assuming  _ we have the magic Death Eater warning thing, we won't have to worry about random people getting in the way. But I'm guessing you weren't planning on some Western-style showdown with the two of us against a crowd of enemies."

"Of course not. This is the Order's fight, too," Michael pointed out.

"How are they  _ not  _ in the way?" Gabriel scoffed.

"We're just there to take care of the demons," Michael said. "It's more their fight than ours, really."

"Because we're cooler than them?"

Michael made a face that told Gabriel ne was probably holding back an exasperated sigh. "Because  _ they're  _ wizards, and Voldemort is a wizard. And we're not."

_ " You _ used to be."

Michael made another exasperated face. "Let's stick to the plan, please?" Ne pulled the map of Diagon Alley towards nemself. "If there's someone in the bank, then once they run off to warn Voldemort we can trigger the alarm. As long as we're sure no others are in the area. They won't be able to leave directly from the bank."

"Why not?"

"They've always had anti-Apparition wards," Michael told him. "To protect against thieves and such. Of course now that the dragon destroyed half the bank I'm sure security's gotten even crazier." Ne eyed Gabriel. "Weren't you in the bank around then?"

"I plead the fifth," Gabriel said.

"I don't even want to know."

* * *

 

Gringotts, several weeks later, had managed to fix the gaping hole in the lobby. Gabriel hadn't gone further in to see how much they had managed to repair, but he guessed that they had gotten a fair amount done.

It was almost disappointing, but whatever.

He managed to pick out the Death Eater immediately. Black robes? Lurking in a corner 'subtly'? Occasionally looking around pointedly, checking a pocketwatch, and pretending to be waiting for someone?

Check, check, check.

Gabriel, looking nothing like himself, casually strolled up to the teller right next to the Death Eater. "Excuse me?"

The teller ignored him for a few minutes in favor of finishing whatever he was scribbling in his book. Eventually, he looked up, managing to make putting his quill aside into a disdainful move. Gabriel was impressed. "Yes?"

"I need to take out an artifact." He could see the Death Eater's attention sharpen - Gabriel was counting on the fact that he'd been informed - no doubt vaguely - as to what to look for.

The goblin sighed, flipping a page and presumably moving to a ledger. "And your vault number?"

"It's not from my vault."

The Death Eater was failing horribly at discreetly keeping an eye on him. The goblin just looked annoyed. "And do you have a Ministry warrant?"

"Er..." Gabriel did his best (which if he said so himself was pretty damn good) to act like someone caught completely off-guard. "I wasn't aware-"

"I can't help you."

"Look, this is important-"

"If I gave access to every customer who said that, Gringotts would hardly be  _ secure,  _ would it?" The goblin gave him a steely look. " _ Go,  _ or I will have security escort you out."

Gabriel frowned, turned on his heel like a man rebuffed, and left. 

He'd done what he needed to do.

The Death Eater followed him out - the taint of the dark mark was enough that Gabriel was able to tell without looking behind him or even searching for the man's soul in his awareness. As he exited through the doors into the Alley, he heard a  _ crack  _ of Apparition from behind him.

Gabriel allowed himself a grin, and slipped into an alleyway between two buildings where Hermione was waiting, his disguise slipping off him.

"How'd it go?" Hermione asked. She was poring over a smaller map of the Alley, pen in one hand. Gabriel wondered where she'd gotten it. There were several red X's marked in various places.

"That was the easiest con I've ever done," Gabriel said. "I can't believe he actually fell for that. Does the wizarding world even have con men?"

"Don't ask me." Hermione raised her eyebrow. "Who have you conned before?"

"They deserved it, trust me." Gabriel leaned over the map. "Whatcha got?"

"We found a couple other Death Eaters in the Alley," Hermione said. "Or Michael did, at least. They don't seem to move around."

Three more. They could deal with that. "And?"

"I think Michael was planning on knocking them out and dumping them somewhere, honestly." Hermione sounded faintly exasperated. "I supposed that's better than killing them."

Gabriel thought that with Michael, it was probably a fifty-fifty chance of the latter. "Let's hope they do it fast," was what he said. "We've got a twenty-minute window, far as I can figure, 'till this place gets full of nasties."

"We're ready," Hermione said. "And we've got what Fred and George managed to whip up to warn anyone else."

"What else?"

"The Order's ready with Anti-Apparition wards as soon as they start coming in," Hermione rattled off. "Plus we're set up at points in the Alley so we can jump out and surprise them. And we've got you three to deal with any demons."

"Lucky you." Gabriel, personally, planned to stick to Hermione like glue. He wasn't risking some demon coming up on her unexpectedly. "Where's Luna?"

"Down by Flourish and Blotts, with Muriel. I don't know where Aziraphale is, though."

"Ah, that's fine. He can take care of himself." Gabriel leaned out of the Alley, glancing over the crowd of people. There wasn't as much of a shopping rush, which meant less people to get out of the way, which was why they'd chosen today to go for it. Fred and George had been surprisingly quick with their invention.

People were already retreating into shops, a faint warning making its way around. The trigger had been sent already, probably by one of the Order - shopkeepers were pulling people out of the main Alley, closing their doors and locking them. The street was emptying fast, and Gabriel saw a few suspicious heads poke out of Knockturn.

"How much time do we have again?" Hermione had lowered her voice, as if scared to break the silence.

"Ten minutes." As far as he and Michael had been able to guess. "You still have that blade, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

There was a deafening, layered  _ crack  _ of air displacement, and Gabriel threw himself out of the Alley.

His blade flashed silver in the sunlight. Spells shot past him from both sides. Gabriel ducked and weaved and the first demon fell without even seeing him. He and Hermione fell into a pattern.

_ Duck. Wait for her spell to finish. Stand. Find the nearest demon. Kill them. Move forward. Avoid another spell. Let Hermione aim. Stab demon sneaking up on her. _

They twisted and turned and the Death Eaters dissolved into chaos around them with the realization that they'd been lead into a trap.

A demon near them ignited. Michael didn't even pause. Ne moved past it and onto the next one in a flash, wings brushing against Gabriel's. Gabriel turned to move out of nir way and brought his blade up in time to block another's.

The demon hissed, eyes black. They reared back and struck again. The shot was aimed at Gabriel's neck. Gabriel blocked it again. He swung back. The blade came up and under the demon's guard.

The demon grabbed his wrist and then screamed at the touch of Grace. They stumbled back, hand smoking, and Gabriel snapped his fingers.

He was already turning to the next one.

Not all of them had dark marks. The demons were so black it was hard to tell. Their clothes and the fact that they looked nothing like wizards helped.

"How many of them are there?" Hermione shouted as she aimed a curse at a Death Eater. Gabriel blocked the one he sent in return.

"No idea." He was already looking. There were too many - they'd given Voldemort too much time to prepare. None of them had thought he'd been able to muster this many.

Gabriel flung his hands out, spreading his Grace. Five demons who had been sneaking up to ambush him crumpled. Two more tried to take their place. Three others ran.

Straight into Michael, that was. Spells were flying and his Grace burned at his vessel, magic and pure power itching to be let loose and Gabriel was in his  _ element. _

Of course, that just meant that it was over all too soon.

"Enough!" The scream was desperate and accompanied by another  _ crack  _ of Apparition. Voldemort's robes whirled around him, settling into a dramatically windswept position. "What is the meaning of this?"

The Order members were backing away, wands held up defensively in front of them.  _ Really? _

"It means," Gabriel said, strolling into the middle of the street, "that you're out of your league."

Voldemort's eyes widened in outrage. "You dare?" He hissed.

Gabriel made a finger gun with his hands, pointing it at Voldemort's forehead. "The thing about Horcruxes," he said, "is that they're not much use when they don't exist."

Gabriel flicked his hand up.

Voldemort crumpled to the ground.

Everyone else froze.

Gabriel didn't stick around to see what happened next - he didn't feel like participating in the Order's wild celebration, or possibly existential crisis now that their enemy was gone. He decided to go see what had happened to Michael.

Michael was holding the last demon down against the cobbled street, blade held to its neck.

"You're not making a strong case."

The demon's lip curled. "I was told to give a message," he spat.

"What message?" Gabriel asked, sidling up.

The demon's eyes moved to him for a second, then back to Michael. "Nothing big." The grin suddenly twisting his lips said otherwise. " _ The Knights want to meet. _ " The harsh rasp of Enochian made Gabriel stiffen. " _ One-on-one...two of them, two of you. Or else. _ "

"Or else what?" Michael challenged.

"Skimp on the meeting and find out," the demon laughed, and then choked when Michael's blade dug under his ribs.

Michael's expression was grim as ne let the body drop.

"Well, that's ominous," Gabriel said. "Let's go somewhere else." People were exuberantly shouting, the noise echoing from inside the shops as well as from the Order (despite the bodies littering the Alley).

His wings took him to the Astronomy tower - why Hogwarts, Gabriel didn't know. Maybe because he'd spent the last few years there, for the most part. It was gratifying, though, to have Michael follow for once.

"There's no way he knew what that message meant," Michael said. "Demons don't speak Enochian."

And Knights did? Gabriel kept the comment to himself - he could guess where the Enochian had come from, and he was sure Michael did, too. "It was pretty clear," he said. "They want to get us out in the open."

"They want to  _ separate  _ us," Michael said. "Same as  _ your  _ plan. Together we're better-"

"And if we go together, guess how long the Knights are going to stay separate?" Gabriel interrupted nem. "If we go for one Knight, the other's going to show up in about three seconds. The only way we can get them alone is if  _ we  _ go alone-"

"Which is  _ exactly  _ what they want."

"They underestimate us."

"I don't think they do."

"Then what?" Gabriel settled on the edge of the stone wall, nothing against his back but air. "Wait until we see what 'or else' is? Not the best option."

Michael was frowning at the ground. Gabriel could see the gears moving in nir head. "They didn't say they wanted a fight."

"They hardly sent it under a white flag," Gabriel scoffed. "What else would they want?"

"We wait," Michael said with a certain sort of finality that mean ne'd made up nir mind. "They didn't set a time limit; we'll see how desperate they are for this."

"And if this goes sideways?"

Michael's mouth flattened. "We'll see if it does."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yet, there is still more coming....comment, please!


	73. Belial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to meeeee, you get an extra chapter for freeeeee
> 
> Well none of you are paying me anything but I don't mind because your reactions to this chapter will be enough.

The week after the Alley battle, all anyone seemed to be talking about was Voldemort's death.

Gabriel understood that he was a serious threat to wizardkind or whatever, but  _ seriously _ ? No one had anything better to talk about?

At the very least, no one had noticed that he had been involved in the battle. The beauty of being an archangel was the ability to smite with one hand and fiddle with reality with the other. All the headlines that weren't devoted to Voldemort's demise and the arrests and trials going on were wondering pointedly about the identity of the man who had killed him.

No one was sharing. And if anyone got the idea to do so into their heads, Gabriel was going to pay them a visit.

No one even asked him if he'd done it - well, a few people did, but that was quickly shot down as most of them had been under the impression that he'd been at school at the time. Gabriel had left behind a double and everything.

Sometimes he really enjoyed the amount of power he wielded.

Of course, it came with downfalls.

Such as the Knights.

* * *

 

The first time it happened, Gabriel was willing to try and pretend that it was a coincidence.

Three witches and wizards dead - the Ministry thought it was the work of a maniac Death Eater trying to keep Voldemort's work alive. "Couldn't it be?"

The look Michael gave Gabriel made it clear what ne thought of that.

"Fine. What?"

"Killed," Michael said. "Viciously. They were a family of purebloods. Does that sound like a Death Eater to you?"

"Not really. What's your point?"

"For someone who never gave us a deadline," Michael said, "they're acting an awful lot like we've gone over one. We need to find them."

Whoa. "We need to  _ what _ ? Like twenty hours ago you were all for waiting!"

"Twenty hours ago they weren’t killing anybody. We can't just let them run around murdering humans unimpeded." Michael threw the newspaper down. "Let more of  _ this  _ happen. It's on us, Gabriel."

"Like hell it is," Gabriel said automatically. "What it  _ is  _ is demons being demons. It's not our fault if one or both of the Knights is pouting. It might not even be them."

Michael arched one eyebrow skeptically. "Still," ne said. "I'm going to see if Castiel doesn't mind helping out."

* * *

 

Castiel didn't mind. Neither did Balthazar, though he complained enough to make the impression that he  _ did,  _ very much so. Muriel probably would have helped them, if she hadn't been busy with school and helping McGonagall, but Verchiel was perfectly willing to step up to the plate.

Of course, that did nothing to stop the next time.

 

The second time something happened, it was glaringly obvious that the Knights had been responsible.

Enochian symbols scrawled in blood were a bit hard to blame on someone else.

"Great." The literal message they gave wasn't much more appealing. It was a warning - the Knights getting cocky. It was insulting and about the rudest Enochian was capable of getting. Gabriel glanced sideways at Michael. Ne had crossed nir arms, and was glaring at the bloody scrawl.

“Rethinking your strategy?” Gabriel asked.

"I am  _ thinking  _ of what to do next." Michael sounded unhappy. 

"Other than fight them?" Gabriel ducked under the rope cordoning off the crime scene. There was plenty of blood, but no sign of the bodies it had come from. "You're the one who said we can't let stuff like this happen."

"There have been demonic omens all over the country," Michael said. "Paimon and Belial are amassing an army. They cannot be our only focus right now."

"Then get someone else on that. Ask Verchiel to recruit or something. I don't know!" Gabriel threw his arms up.

"Why are you so eager to fight Belial again?" Michael demanded. "Is this some sort of-"

"Don't psychoanalyze me," Gabriel snapped. "I'm saying we're not the ones who should be dealing with whatever other demons are dragging themselves over here. They've got an army, so what. Aren't you a general?"

If anything, Michael's posture got tenser. "I wouldn't have guessed that you'd be telling me to go to Heaven for support."

Gabriel shrugged. "You're the one who said 'army'. Figure we need one to beat one." It seemed like a Michael thing to do. Gabriel was pleasantly surprised by nir reluctance. “I’m saying if that’s what you want to do, you’d better get on it. It’s going to be just as difficult for other angels to get over here as it is for demons.”

Michael nodded slowly, eyes turning back to the graffitti. 

“Well?” Gabriel asked impatiently when ne didn’t respond for several seconds.

"I don't think we need to worry that much yet." Michael uncrossed nir arms, lacing nir hands together behind nir back. “They want a fight badly, and I’m not inclined to give it to them under their terms. But we can’t let this continue, either.”

“Then  _ what,  _ if you’re done changing your mind?” Gabriel was tempted to throw his arms in the air in frustration.

Michael cast nir eyes at the ground, furrowing nir brow. “I’ll think of something.”

* * *

 

Castiel showed up again about an hour later.

"I told Sam and Dean about the threat," he said. "They're rather insistent that I bring them over to help. I told them that it would be difficult and possibly injurious to bring them here, but I did promise to deliver the message."

"What, they don't trust us?" Gabriel scoffed.

"Tell them to piss off." Michael's delivery was completely deadpan. Gabriel choked on a lollipop. "And if you know any angels who could help, let me know."

Castiel's creased brow was the only sign that he detected anything unusual about the conversation. That, or he was worried about Gabriel, who was trying not to laugh and failing. It probably sounded like he was choking.

"...I will," Castiel replied eventually, and vanished.

Michael gave Gabriel a dry look. "If you're done?"

"I didn't expect you to dust off your sense of humor." Gabriel was practically wheezing, but if any occasion warranted losing control of himself like that, it was this. "You  _ really  _ don't want their help, do you?"

"They would just get in the way." But Michael was grinning in a way that made Gabriel think ne had been trying to make a good joke.

* * *

 

"Oh, dear," was Aziraphale's reaction to the whole mess when Gabriel went back to the bookstore.

"Yeah. I figured you wouldn't be jumping to be on the front lines," Gabriel said, not protesting as Aziraphale poured out two cups of tea.

"It's not really my style," Aziraphale said. "I don't even have a weapon."

"I know," Gabriel said dryly. "Isn't that why Michael banished you? For losing it?"

"I hardly  _ lost  _ it," Aziraphale scoffed, and then immediately looked guilty. "Er-"

"Where'd it go, then?" Gabriel didn't give him time to backtrack. He leaned forward in his seat.

"If you must know," said Aziraphale testily, "I gave it away."

Had Gabriel heard him right? "You what?"

"Gave it away," Aziraphale repeated.

"Seriously?" Gabriel said disbelievingly. "To who? The only ones other than angels around back then were-" The answer hit him. "You  _ didn't. _ "

"What was I supposed to do?" Aziraphale looked uncomfortable. "They weren't  _ used  _ to that kind of hardship, and she was  _ expecting  _ already-"

Gabriel cut him off by laughing. Loudly. For a minute or so without stopping. 

"That's the best thing I've ever heard," he said when he calmed down. "You gave your sword to  _ Adam and Eve _ ? And then took the fall for them?" Gabriel whistled, but it was ruined by another bubble of laughter. " _ Lost  _ it. I can't believe Michael believed that."

"I think I was lucky to get away with a banishment for just that," Aziraphale replied. "To be honest, Michael seemed a bit tired of the smiting and casting down routine by the time ne got to me." He nudged the teacup closer. "But I doubt you came here for nostalgia, Gabriel, and you knew I wouldn't fight."

"Like I said, I figured you weren't the type." Gabriel didn't take the tea. "You've got a bookstore full of old information."

"I fail to see the point." Aziraphale had leaned forward slightly in interest.

"So you're good at finding information that might not, necessarily, be immediately available?"

"What kind of information are you looking for?"

"Not anything you'd have here," Gabriel said. "I don't even know if it exists. But I had an idea."

Aziraphale gave him a long look. "Is this about the Knights?"

"Partially," Gabriel admitted. "The last time I fought a Knight...it was Belial that time, too."

"And?"

"She nearly cut my wing off." To sum the worst of it up.

Aziraphale's hand jumped to his mouth, and his eyes darted to just over Gabriel's shoulder. "Dear. Erm." His eyes moved, almost reluctantly, back to Gabriel and away from the evidence of a scar. "You're worried?"

"I know I could use a backup plan," Gabriel said evenly. "And what I'm thinking of is something I'd need someone else's help with."

"And you're asking me?"

Gabriel grinned. "Who comes to visit you that you're gonna tell?"

* * *

 

"Er, Gabriel-"

"What? Did you find something?"

"Well, yes..."

"Let me see."

"Hold on, just - look at this bit."

"That?"

"No, here."

"...Oh."

"Are you sure-"

"It's still a sound plan."

"I don't think-"

"Look,  _ you're  _ here, aren't you? Backup. You can cut it off if something goes wrong."

"Well...I  _ suppose _ ...if you're certain you want to do this."

"Even if it goes wrong, it's not that much of a loss for me, isn't it?"

"You don't know that, Gabriel."

"It'll be fine."

"If you say so."

* * *

 

The third time something happened, it was impossible to ignore.

A bloody invitation, with a date, time, and location was just that kind of message.

"They're getting cocky." This time all they had was a memory of the scene. Michael had wiped it from the wall once they'd both gotten a good look at it, in case some idiot got it into their head to go see what the deal was.

"They were already cocky," Gabriel said. "They're Knights of Hell."

"They're making it so  _ they  _ set up everything." Michael's face was drawn into tight, angry lines. "They're not giving us a chance to have it on our own terms."

Gabriel wondered if it would be possible to discreetly sit down. He swung himself up onto the table, ignoring the way the vessel protested.  _ Ow.  _ Gabriel squashed the reflex. He was fine. This was fine. He let his legs hang off the side. "They were never going to let  _ us  _ set the terms."

"We can't let them do this."

"If you've got any ideas, don't keep them to yourself." Gabriel answered. "We  _ both  _ know what's gonna happen if neither of us show for this."

"We're not ready," Michael said.

"Speak for yourself."

"Not  _ us.  _ There are demons gathering, and we need to prepare for them, too. Like you said." Michael's fingers drummed on the table.

"So get Castiel to team up with someone and take care of that."

Michael shot him an annoyed look. "It's not that easy."

"Why not? You're assuming you have to do it yourself."

"You're the one who said I was the General."

Gabriel scoffed. "You are. Doesn't mean you can't make someone else do it."

"Not necessarily."

"Why not?"

Michael hesitated. "If I do, what then? Just go and agree to the Knight's demands?"

"More like an invitation," Gabriel said, "but yeah. You still outrank Paimon, whatever the situation. And like you said, less people die the sooner we do something about this."

Michael closed nir eyes briefly, grimacing at the reminder. When ne opened them again, ne gave Gabriel a long, worried look. "Are you sure you're ready for a fight?"

"Trust me, Michael." Gabriel's hand curled around the vial in his pocket. "I've got a plan."

* * *

 

Admittedly, his plan was shit.

But it wasn't like Gabriel was going to  _ tell _ anyone that.

* * *

 

The place was big, and empty. It had probably fallen out of use years ago. Wooden beams kept the roof up and Gabriel eyed them, looking for anything he could use as an advantage.

Rain rattled on the corrugated steel roof. There was thunder in the distance. It was a suitably ominous setup. Gabriel wondered if the weather had been rigged up on purpose.

"What a surprise." He sensed Belial arrive before she spoke. When he turned, a smug grin was seated on her face.

"Because I showed?" Gabriel didn't move forward. His blade was already in his hand. Belial had one, too. No doubt it was stolen, but Gabriel didn't want to think of how.

"You did ignore our last few messages." Belial replied. "I hardly thought you'd be eager to meet again."

"Right." Gabriel moved in a slow circle. Belial mirrored his movements, unwilling to let the distance between them close. "Because you're so scary."

"Don't tell me you've forgotten." She sounded delighted.

"Forgotten? No." Gabriel didn't pause. "Learned a few tricks? You could say that."

"Really," Belial drawled. "Is that supposed to intimidate me? I think you've lost your touch."

"I doubt it."

Belial smirked. "You don't even want to fight me," she said. "Is this stalling? Because it's not going to work. I can see right through you."

"That so." Gabriel didn't see where Belial's point was.

"Oh, yes." The blade twirled and switched sides, constantly moving in Belial's hands. "It was on your mind last time," she said. "I could tell. You were  _ distracted. _ "

"By what?" Gabriel retorted, but his heart had sunk.

_ "Me. _ " Belial's grin was viciously happy. "You don't really want to attack a fallen  _ sibling,  _ do you?"

Gabriel didn't reply at first.

"It's hardly my fault you sided with Lucifer." It was a shitty retort, but the first thing that leaped to Gabriel's mind.

"And I heard you turned him down," Belial shot back. "A shame."

"What, that I'm not rotting downstairs with you?" Gabriel bit out. "Spare me. Like becoming a demon was the greatest thing that ever happened to you."

"It was better than staying in  _ Heaven, _ " Belial spat. "Tell me, what happened after we left? Hm? Problem solved, back to normal?"

"That's none of your business."

"No, then." She was smugly victorious about it. "How that must have  _ burned. _ "

"More than Hell?" Gabriel scoffed. "Or were you down below with Lucifer? I hear he likes the cold better."

"So rude," Belial said, "when speaking of family."

"You haven't been an angel in a long time," Gabriel said. "I doubt it counts. Isn't that why you all changed your names?"

"Like names matter that much," Belial sneered. "You're avoiding the point.  _ Stalling.  _ I doubt I'm the first of your own family you've killed-"

"That's enough!" Gabriel's voice was sharp, his true one bleeding into it. The building rattled around them, shaking dust from the rafters. "Don't you  _ dare  _ call me a killer when you're the one painting blood on walls to get my attention." How  _ dare  _ she accuse him of that.

"It  _ worked. _ " Belial's grin was just as sharp. "You're here."

"I'm as much a fan of games as the next person," Gabriel said. "But not here. Not now."

"You're just scared-"

"Stop pretending,  _ Sachiel. _ " Belial flinched at her angelic name, and Gabriel took an undue amount of pleasure from it. "You talk about family, but you haven't counted yourself as one of my siblings since you fell. You're just trying to get me to hesitate." Like last time, but their nonexistent kinship hadn't been his reason then. Gabriel raised his blade. "It's not going to work."

Belial's eyes were narrow. "You don't care." It sounded like she'd just realized it.

"Neither do you."

Both of them were right, and both of them knew it.

"So what now?" Belial sneered. "You use your tricks to kill me? Because it's not going to  _ work- _ "

She lunged forward, blade thrust out, and the illusion sparked and died around it.

"Well," said Gabriel from behind her, "that one just did."

Gabriel struck for the heart, but Belial had already turned around. Angelic steel met angelic steel with a  _ clang.  _ The building shivered.

Belial didn't waste any time. She reared back, slashing at Gabriel. He was already moving, letting the other double dissipate. He went for her back again. Belial ducked and moved fast. She put herself at the other end of the warehouse.

"That's cheating," she snarled.

"I'm fighting you," Gabriel said. "Can't cheat if there aren't rules."

She vanished, but Gabriel was faster. By the time her blade came down where he'd been standing he was somewhere else.

"Stand  _ still _ !"

"You first." Gabriel blocked a strike that would have cut into his neck. Belial was nearly as strong as he was. Close enough to make it difficult to press back with enough force. What had she been doing while presumed dead?

"You're dead either way." Up close, it was more threatening. Belial's face was twisted with hate. "You're just dragging out."

"So you say." Gabriel darted away. Belial stumbled. He'd moved too fast for her to follow. Gabriel swept her legs out from under her.

Belial managed to land a glancing blow on one leg. Gabriel shot away. Grace bled through the wound, sun-bright. Gabriel fixed the vessel with a thought. He couldn't let Belial see.

There was still blood on her blade. Belial was on her feet in a second. She was grinning again. She opened her mouth to speak and Gabriel darted past. His blade flashed, opening a cut on her arm. Gabriel tucked his wings in so quickly he skidded as he landed.

Belial swore. _"_ _ Fuck _ you." It was bleeding, but she didn't bother healing the vessel.

Her blood looked almost black against the silver of his blade. He'd cut a deep gash. Deeper than the one she'd given him.

Hopefully the rest of the fight would be the same.

Gabriel didn't want to have to use his backup.

Gabriel turned away from one hit and came back around. Belial barely avoided the blade at her neck. She leaned back so far she might have lost her balance. If she were human. Belial swung back at him in a second. She was spitting mad. Gabriel blocked the blow. Their blades locked in place. Arms trembled with the force.

Gabriel  _ pushed.  _ Desperation lent him a temporary advantage. Belial's blade was forced down. They were face-to-face. Belial's snarl was a threat; bared teeth and nothing else.

Gabriel flung out a hand. His Grace went where he directed it - towards Belial. She went skidding across the floor. Her feet were knocked out from under her. Dust rose in clouds. Her scream of frustration raised even more.

"Still confident?" Gabriel taunted. He  _ was  _ better than the last time they'd met. Obviously, Belial wasn't.

"You wish," she spat. Belial's eyes flicked black.

A heavy force threw itself at Gabriel. It was so abrupt that he had to struggle to stay standing under it. Belial got to her feet slowly. She looked like she was enjoying watching Gabriel wrestle against her power.

It had to be that. There was no one else there. But this was more than Gabriel had expected from one Knight.

He wrangled his way out from under it, throwing his Grace back at Belial. The building was shuddering, creaking and groaning around it and neither of the two of them were willing to back down.

Gabriel sent his Grace spiking upwards. The beam that came crashing down missed Belial by a fraction of an inch.

It was enough.

Her concentration faltered. Gabriel rushed forwards.

He left doubles littered in his wake. All of them rushed forward. Belial struck out indiscriminately. Illusions shattered and what remained of the power went back to Gabriel.

It wasn't  _ enough. _

"No more of them?" Belial snapped out. "Shame. I enjoyed  _ killing  _ them."

"They're not alive," Gabriel retorted. He lunged away from a nasty thrust and countered with one of his own. He nearly got her. Belial was unfortunately almost as fast as him. "Shows what you know."

"Getting tired?" Belial's grin was feral. "Shouldn't have wasted your energy."

He  _ shouldn't  _ have. It had been too many of them at once.

And one mistake could be deadly.

Gabriel shot forward. He could  _ make  _ this shot. The blade nicked Belial's arm again.

He only realized he'd left himself open when he saw the grin on her face. Gabriel twisted away, tried to reverse, but she was fast.

She missed his heart. The force of the blow took the blade down, and deeper.

_ Fuck. _

Gabriel staggered. He barely managed to parry her next strike. Belial's smile was wide, eyes wild.

"Come on," she crooned, and Gabriel winced. His free hand clutched his side.  _ Wrong hand.  _ If he could get to his pocket- "You  _ knew _ this was going to happen."

"Fat chance," he choked out. His Grace was bleeding through the wound. The light cast a haunting shadow. Belial's eyes were invisible save for where they glittered in it.

Gabriel mustered up what he could and  _ shoved.  _ His Grace burned. Every fiber of him protested the movement. He staggered again. So did Belial, shoved backwards and off her guard long enough for Gabriel to switch hands.

"You don't know when to give up," she sneered.

"Bad habit." Gabriel's left hand was slick with blood. It felt like the blade was going to slide away. He hooked a finger around the guard. His other arm was pressed against the gash. Grace scorched the sleeve of his jacket. Fuck, it hurt, but all he needed was three seconds-

Belial rushed him and Gabriel had to parry again. His arm vibrated from the shock force of two blades meeting. He had to fight to stay standing. Belial was glaring at him.

_ Stay like that.  _ He needed her to look anywhere but down. Gabriel groped for his pocket. His blood-slick hand - and arm - made it difficult. So did his torn jacket.  _ I didn't drop it, there's no way I dropped it, please. _

"You're dead." Belial spat into his face. "I'm going to finish what I started."

Gabriel's hand closed around the vial.

"Have fun with that," he said, and threw it to the ground between them.

The explosion of magic tossed both of them back like rag dolls.

Gabriel locked a groan behind his teeth when he hit the ground. Pain lanced through his torso. He dragged himself to his feet.  _ Where did she go _ ?

_ There. _

Belial was on her side. Gabriel had thrown up a hasty shield. He'd known what was coming.

She had not.

The force of something compacted and contained inside a vial that was far, far too small had flung her across the warehouse. It had nearly leveled the building. Dust was everywhere. Beams had fallen. Support pillars had collapsed. Anything wooden too close to the epicenter was gone.

Gabriel's wings managed to take him closer. He didn't think his legs could. Belial pushed herself up, made to turn, and Gabriel's blade slid between her ribs.

Her scream rattled the building even more thoroughly. Then, she was silent. Everything was silent.

Gabriel's arm felt loose and unsteady when he pulled the blade out. His whole body felt like that. He retreated a few steps.

He'd  _ done  _ it.

Hopefully it was worth what his backup plan had demanded. Gabriel's arm was pressed against the still-bleeding gash in his torso. His shirt had been nearly cut in half, he noticed with a detached sort of lack of interest. There was a weird feeling near his hip that meant blood was probably seeping into his pants.

That was about when his legs gave out.

Gabriel's knees hit the ground with a thud. His angel blade clattered against the concrete, and then the rest of his body followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chanting* NOT SORRY NOT SORRY NOT SORRY NOT SORRY
> 
> IT WAS FOR THE PLOT, GUYS. THE PLOT.
> 
> SHOWER ME IN COMMENTS FOR MY BIRTHDAY


	74. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys aren't as angry about that cliffhanger as I expected, given the initial reaction I got on ffnet. Maybe the birthday greetings put you in a happier state of mind?
> 
> Obviously Gabriel's not dead, though. What kind of author would I be if I killed off the hero of the story? (I'm looking at you, Sleepy Hollow. RIP Abbie Mills)
> 
> There are a couple alternate versions of this where I took it in a different direction (I wasn't mean enough to have the actual story end with Gabriel half-Fallen) so if you take a look at Alternate Vessels I'll probably have that up soon. And with this plot point out of the way I can finally finish Mikha'il, so leave me some comments on both of those, please!
> 
> There's some more plot twists to be had, though - we're not done yet....

Gabriel wasn't unconscious, per se.

He wasn't  _ not  _ unconscious.

The new presence crashing into the warehouse did a good job of waking him up, though.

It was fire and blinding light and smoke. Probably from all the beams that had fallen.  _ Michael,  _ Gabriel thought muzzily. Why was ne here? He'd done it. Belial was dead.

Someone - Michael - swore. There was a scraping noise and Michael's hands were on him, pulling at his shoulder. Gabriel groaned as Michael pulled him onto his back.

"Fuck," Michael said again. There was a weird shakiness to nir voice. Or maybe Gabriel misheard. He probably couldn't trust his senses, because his perception of time was definitely shot to hell. Michael's hand was really tight on his shoulder.

"Gabriel?" Then, more insistently, " _ Gabriel. _ Look at me!"

Gabriel didn't want to drag open his eyes. It was too much effort. He managed to turn his head to where Michael was (probably), groaning again in place of words. That hadn't been intentional, but all that came out was "Nnnhh."

He was pretty sure that Michael swore much more vehemently then, but again. Senses. Weren't great.

Then hands were pushing under him and lifting up and Gabriel had never remembered gravity dragging at him quite that much. He pressed his arm into his chest and tried not to think about how it felt like his whole right side was soaked.

Something wasn't right, Michael was listing to one side, putting too much weight on nir left side. The fact passed through Gabriel's head in a haze.

He was weightless for a moment, space passing around him and he could tell Michael was flying. Michael landed unsteadily, already shouting.

_ "Aziraphale! _ " The noise stabbed into Gabriel's head and made him stiffen reflexively. He immediately regretted it when his fingers curled and dug into the sensitive injury.

_ "Ow... _ " It was more incoherent groan than actual word, more than it should have been, but Gabriel just  _ hurt. _

There was rushed conversation over him and more hands, pulling his jacket off and making his shirt vanish and putting something vaguely soft under him. Gabriel's eyes were still squeezed shut, human reflex and plain  _ not wanting  _ to see what it looked like, how far Belial had cut-

Someone's hand skimmed over his hip, pressing gingerly and Gabriel  _ screamed. _

His Grace lashed out. The hand vanished, jerked away abruptly.

"Aziraphale-" There were more urgent voices and someone's hand was curled around his face but it  _ hurt _

_ nodon't _

_ don'ttouchthatagain- _

_ leaveitalone _

_                     stopitplease- _

Gabriel couldn't tell if he was actually  _ saying  _ anything. His mind was too muddled to make sense of anything.

Then there was more force pressing down on his arms and Gabriel thrashed, trying to push back but his Grace was  _ torn  _ and ragged and exhausted from fighting and it would have been a miracle if he'd managed to so much as shift whatever was pinning him down.

He was running on pure panic response. He didn't even know if Michael was still there. He was trapped and injured and he couldn't do anything about it and  _ he didn't know what was happening. _

" _ Please- _ "

What felt like lightning touched his wound.

Gabriel's back arched and his throat was hoarse as his true voice tore at it. His hands were scrabbling at  _ whatever  _ he was lying on and it was moving up his torso, it felt like he was on  _ fire, nodon' _

_ tdon'tpl _

_ ease _

_ stopitit _

_ hurts _ -

It didn't stop.

It didn't stop and  _ he couldn't move  _ not even to curl in on himself, and it was such a  _ human, pointless  _ move that Gabriel didn't know  _ why  _ he thought it would help. There were tiny, pained noises being forced out of him that scraped against his throat and when they - Michael? Aziraphale? Someone else? - finally drew back he gasped and sagged into the bed.

His mind was a mess of  _ pain  _ and  _ fuck  _ and everything else tangled up in between so that it barely processed that his torso hurt less, now, than it had before. Gabriel felt limp, like something had been removed (well, something  _ had _ ) and his body refused to cooperate.

He was too hot but there was a chilly sensation that swept over his body and made his skin stick to whatever he was lying on (a bed?) and the duality of it made no sense because he couldn't be  _ both,  _ temperature didn't bother him, except it  _ was. _

There was a hand on his forehead that was  _ way  _ too hot, like something was burning underneath the skin, and Michael whispered,  _ Rest. _

Gabriel let himself fall away.

* * *

 

Michael knew Aziraphale was watching nem.

Ne pushed himself away from the bed, worn and wondering if this was what people meant when they said 'tired to the bone'. Nir exhaustion certainly felt like it went that deep, and further.

First Paimon, then Gabriel...

Ne could guess why Aziraphale looked unnerved. Ne was, too. Seeing Gabriel laid out bare - partially literally - like that was...

It hadn't seemed like Gabriel in the slightest.

Nir panic was only now fading, tingling along nir bones like the aftermath of a burst of adrenalin. Michael had panicked when ne'd arrived in the disastrous aftermath of Gabriel's fight with Belial. They'd arranged to meet each other afterwards. Michael had persuaded Gabriel to agree. Ne wanted to be able to make sure Gabriel was all right.

He hadn't shown.

When ne had gotten there, Gabriel had looked dead. Bloody and his blade discarded, not three feet away from Belial, and for a moment Michael had really believed that they'd killed each other.

There was probably some ironic statement ne could make about this, about history repeating itself, Belial and Gabriel and Gabriel nearly dying -  _ again _ \- but it seemed wrong.

_ Gabriel  _ was the one who made jokes. And he was spread out on a bed in the hospital wing with a gash that had gone nearly all the way through.

_ Nearly,  _ Michael told nemself,  _ and only in one place. He's not dead. You just made sure of that.  _ But healing Gabriel, going in and 'stitching' him back together, had caused more pain than it had fixed. The fact that anything in the room made of glass had shattered when he screamed was a testament to that.

He'd lost control enough for his true voice to leak through. Michael didn't even want to imagine the kind of pain Gabriel had been in.

"You're hurt," Aziraphale said, and Michael remembered nir leg.  _ Right.  _ Belial wasn't the only one who had gotten in a lucky shot. Ne groped around for a chair, reaching behind nem, and one obligingly slid up.

Michael dropped into it, giving Aziraphale a grateful look. Aziraphale just nodded. Taking weight off nir leg didn't seem to help much. Ne'd fixed the damage to nir body - body, not vessel - but the real damage went deeper.

"Do you need-"

"I'll take care of it." Michael said. "You're the one who got thrown into that cabinet."

"Ah. Well." Aziraphale shifted on his feet uncomfortably. "I probably should have considered that putting my hands on an injured archangel wouldn't end well."

What had worried Michael about that was how uncontrolled it had seemed, but ne wasn't going to say that to Aziraphale's face. Ne glanced at Gabriel impulsively.

"He'll be alright," Aziraphale said, guessing at Michael's thoughts. "You did heal him."

"Not all the way," Michael murmured. Ne didn't have enough energy to fix it completely. It had been a clean wound - from an angel blade, ne'd seen another on the floor near Belial - but ne doubted ne would have been able to do much more even at full power.

Aziraphale shifted again, then leaned over, fingers trailing over Gabriel's chest. Gabriel stirred, head turning to the side with a faint, huffed groan of complaint, but stayed unconscious. The now-thinner gash in his vessel closed, leaving only bloody traces that it had ever been there.

"His vessel seems a little fragile," Aziraphale murmured, then shook his head. "I suppose it's nothing."

He pulled Gabriel's shoes off, leaving them neatly by the foot of the bedside table. Aziraphale managed to tug the blanket out from under Gabriel in one seamless move and drape it over him, hiding most of Gabriel's chest. It didn't do much to hide the blood that had puddled on the bed. A reddish, browning stain still covered most of the top half of the blanket.

"We should probably clean up," Michael muttered. "Madam Pomfrey won't appreciate the mess."

Aziraphale glanced at an open door, beyond which lay an empty office. "She's the doctor, I assume?" He ran an absentminded hand over the blanket, restoring it (and probably the mattress as well) to a pristine white. Drops of blood on the floor wiped themselves away.

Michael nodded. "We're lucky she's not here." It would have been too complicated to explain, to keep her out of the way  _ and  _ fix Gabriel.

"I don't suppose anyone's about to show up and be horrified by what they see."

"No. I don't think they know we're back yet."

Aziraphale nodded. Then he said, "Give me your leg."

"What?"

"Prop up your leg." Aziraphale pulled up another chair. "I know you don't have enough energy to heal yourself. I'll do it."

Michael stared for a moment. Then ne put nir leg up on the chair.

The anxiety winding through Aziraphale's Grace eased somewhat. He paused before putting his hands on Michael's leg. "You'll have to promise not to throw me into any cabinets, though."

"That's a promise I can make."

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Aziraphale worked, easing the ache in Michael’s legs while the torches burned down and Gabriel stayed unnaturally still. Then a thought jumped to Michael’s mind, and ne groaned. Aziraphale startled.

“What is it?”

“I promised I’d tell my mum when we were done so she could make sure I was okay,” Michael said. Aziraphale stared at nem incredulously. “I don’t have a phone. Or Floo powder.”

“...I think Gabriel has a phone,” Aziraphale said eventually. Michael glanced at the jacket, cut nearly in two, lying discarded over the back of an empty chair. It was still rather bloodied.

Nir Grace moved sluggishly, but Michael cleaned off the jacket and made the chair scoot close enough for nem to retrieve a phone from the undamaged pocket. It took nem several tries to guess Gabriel’s password; eventually, ne laughed under nir breath and typed in 5-6-5-4. It worked. Gabriel was proud of the strangest things.

The phone rang exactly once before it was answered. “Hello?” Michael’s mother’s voice sounded nervous.

“Mum, it’s me.” Across from nem, Aziraphale gingerly rose and left the hospital wing, giving nem privacy. Michael appreciated that. 

“Michael, thank God. Are you alright?” 

“...Well enough.” Michael shifted, testing nir leg. “Better than I expected to be, sort of.”

Nia’s sigh of relief was a crackle of static over the phone. “I - I’m fine with the angel thing, but - no more demons, Michael, please.”

“I hope not,” Michael said. “ But it’s not likely, for that to happen or for me to be injured. I’m good at this sort of thing, mum.”

“So you said,” Nia said reluctantly. “Is it done, then? For good?”

“They’re both gone.” Michael breathed for a moment, and said, “I don’t want to do this again.”

“You don’t have to, Michael. No one can make you.”

_ Michael  _ could make Michael do it. That old sense of responsibility was written deep in nir bones. But Michael Corner could pretend that ne wouldn’t if ne didn’t want to. “Alright.”

“Are you really alright? You sound...not good.” Michael could practically hear nir mum worrying her lip. “You’d tell me if something bad had happened, right?”

Michael stayed silent, eyes darting to the bed that contained Gabriel.

“Michael?”

“Gabriel’s - hurt. Badly.” It came out in a rush. “I healed him as much as I could, but I’m not good at that, it was never my job, and I don’t-” The words stuck in Michael’s throat. What if something went wrong suddenly? What if ne hadn’t done a good enough job? What if ne’d caused Gabriel so much pain in going in and putting him back together that ne undid all the progress they’d made?

“Is  _ he  _ alright?”

“...Maybe.” Michael looked at Gabriel again, still and faded, and then pulled nir knees up to nir chest. “I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“Like what?”

“Hurt. In pain. I don’t know.” Michael pressed the phone to nir cheek and nir forehead against nir knees. “I don’t like it.”

“Angels can heal, can’t they?” Nia asked. “Surely he’ll get better. If those demons are dead, is there any reason he’d get worse?”

“No.” Michael slumped, and repeated it. “No. He won’t get worse for no reason at all.” Ne was being unreasonable, of course. Family ties getting in the way again.

...But those ties had made nem try so hard to fix Gabriel, too.

“I don’t know what to do to make it like it was before between me and Gabriel,” Michael said.

Nir mother was silent for a long time.

“Do you know what Gabriel said to me, when you asked us to talk?” She asked eventually. Michael’s forehead wrinkled into a frown.

“No.”

“He told me that you and I were both trying to get to where we had been before, or at least trying to make it work, so we should stop trying separately. And you remember how I came and talked to you afterwards.”

“Yes.” 

“Do that with him. It worked for you and I, and there’s no harm in trying.” Nia’s voice softened. “And tell him that if he wants, he can always come visit. I know you’ve said not all your relatives are nice, but I think he’s a charismatic young man.”

Michael snorted. “He’s a jerk when he wants to be.”

“And you can tell him that once he is well and truly better.” 

Michael’s eyes drifted over to Gabriel again. Was ne imagining it, or did Gabriel look slightly brighter? “Thanks, mum.”

“Come home soon so I can see you for myself.”

“I will.”

“You’d better.”

Michael smiled. “‘Bye, mum. I’ll see you after Gabriel wakes up.”

* * *

 

It was tricky to try and identify exactly when awareness started seeping back to him. Gabriel was first aware of how weird his surroundings were - he couldn't tell what color they were, like they were no color at all but constantly changing hue.

There was a presence near him, like someone sitting next to him.

Correction.

There was Someone next to him.

Gabriel bolted upright like he'd been shocked. " _ You?! _ "

His Father smiled at him. "Me," He agreed.

"I -  _ what _ \- what are you-" Words piled up in his mouth. "You're -  _ here _ ?"

"Yes." Why was He so  _ calm _ ?

"Where have You  _ been _ ?" Gabriel didn't remember standing up, but he wasn't entirely sure he'd been lying down in the first place. "You just - you fucking  _ left  _ us! And now You're - You stroll back in like  _ nothing _ happened? I - Raphael thought You were  _ dead,  _ Michael didn't even  _ tell  _ me You were gone until - until  _ ages  _ later! They tried to start the  _ Apocalypse  _ and I almost  _ died  _ and You - You're here  _ now _ ?"

At that point Gabriel remembered who he was yelling at and snapped his mouth shut. His Father didn't seem fazed by it.

"You've got every right to be angry," He said. At least three retorts jumped to Gabriel's mind and he bit them all back _ ,  _ looking away from Him. It had been a long time since he'd been in this position. He'd forgotten how small it made him feel.

Being told he was right didn't make him feel any better, either.

"You can say what you like." He wasn't smiling, but He didn't need to be for Gabriel to be able to tell that He wasn't upset. "I know it's been difficult."

"That's an understatement." Gabriel knew he sounded bitter. "Maybe it would have gone better if You'd  _ stuck around _ ."

God sighing was a peculiar thing to be in the presence of. "I did have my reasons."

"Reasons for ditching us?"

"I never left you," He said. "Not fully."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gabriel bit out. "That You were there 'in spirit'? Fat lot of good  _ that  _ did. Or are You just ignoring how without You Michael had to bullshit their way through running  _ Heaven _ ? Was that not big enough for You to worry about? If the  _ Apocalypse  _ isn't-"

"Gabriel." The way He was looking at him made Gabriel feel suddenly, intensely out of place. It was like something had brought every un-angelic part of him to the forefront - all of Loki, of the Trickster. And they didn't belong in front of someone like Him.

"I know what happened after I left," He said softly. "And I do regret what happened. It was never My intention of any of that to happen."

"You're God," Gabriel muttered recalcitrantly. "You knew it was going to happen."

"I saw that it might happen," He agreed. "But it was not the only possible outcome. I hoped, perhaps, that Michael would choose one of the better routes."

"So it's Michael's fault."

"No," God said. "Mostly My own, I think, for placing too much onto nem too abruptly. I should not have left without a warning of some kind."

"But You  _ left. _ " Gabriel tried not to sound like a petulant child.

"Yes." God nodded. "So did you."

Crap.

"I'm hardly in a place to reprimand you for doing so," He said before Gabriel could speak. "I am the one who left first. My regret is that events led to a place where you felt you had no choice but to leave."

It would have been unnerving, being read so easily, but from Him it was different. That was simply how He worked. "I-" Gabriel didn't know what he'd expected, if he'd ever been really confronted about his leaving (not that he'd ever imagined this scenario) but unconditional acceptance without any kind of blame was not it. "You - know what I did. Right?" How much  _ did  _ He know?

God nodded. He looked almost amused, if that could describe what it was like. "You found another family," He said softly, and Gabriel shifted, discomfort welling up in him again. "It's not a bad thing. You wished for one that would give you what your siblings failed to."

"Yeah, well, turns out they were a crappy family too." Gabriel didn't want to think about Odin right now, much less any of the rest of them. "Didn't do much to stop my other family from fucking things up for me anyway."

God's amusement dimmed. "It was not supposed to happen then, you know."

"Then why not come back and stop them?" Gabriel retorted. "If it wasn't supposed to happen then why not come back and  _ stop  _ it?"

"Tell me, Gabriel," He said. "You know what Michael intended. You can guess what Lucifer wanted. If I  _ had  _ returned to fix the situation, how quickly would the two of them have realized exactly what they needed to do every time they wanted to see me?"

They'd have been dealing with Apocalypses every month - week, maybe. Gabriel didn't doubt that. "Why leave in the first place, though?" He asked quietly. "You knew this would happen."

"Gabriel," He said softly. "My Messenger...you all had so much  _ potential.  _ So much that it took me far longer than it should have to realize what I'd given you. You could never have pursued that with me hovering over your shoulder, directing your every move."

"That's  _ it _ ?" That was... "That's just something - our  _ potential _ ? For what? Free will?" It was a rhetorical question.

"Perhaps," He said mildly, shocking Gabriel. "I don't believe I quite got the hang of that until the humans...in you, it takes a while to manifest, and the trigger is usually some unfortunate circumstance."

"We don't have free will," Gabriel said automatically.

"Then what have you been doing all these years?" God asked - not unkindly. "Taking orders from whoever you could find?"

Gabriel opened his mouth to reply and then closed it, unsure. What was he supposed to say to something like that? He’d fulfilled his role as Loki, but he’d also left. He’d followed letter-for-letter the guidelines for a Trickster, but he’d chosen his own targets and invented his own punishments. Did he lead himself or not?

"Why?" He said eventually.

"Why not?" His Father was smiling at him again, even if it wasn't a smile by conventional definition. "Do you regret it?"

Becoming Loki? Everything he'd done on Earth? "No," Gabriel said softly. "I just - couldn't you have just  _ told  _ us this?"

"And then you would have asked me what you should do with your free will," God said. "No, Gabriel. A warning, perhaps - a note that I would no longer be there to tell you what to do - but it was never the leaving that was my mistake."

"Mistake?"

"I can make those," He said, something like laughter in His voice at Gabriel's surprise.

"You're God."

"Yes," He said, "and just look at what I've made. Don't you think an absolutely perfect being could make something equally perfect?"

"...Maybe. No," Gabriel admitted, when He gave him a look that pressed him to answer honestly. Gabriel had made things, even if most of them weren't actually real. "There's always something missing."

"Perhaps." Gabriel had a feeling He had known the answer before He asked. "Perfect beings would be rather boring."

"You're not."

"Well," He said. "Maybe there's a different definition of perfect for what I've made."

"Humans think angels are perfect." Perfect and holy and good. Gabriel had considered the irony of it before. "I think it varies between species."

God was silent for a moment, merely watching Gabriel. Then- "You have something on your mind."

Gabriel glanced down, then back up. "It's not important." Not really.

"Isn't it?"

"I - no, it's just..."

It was debatable whether either of them really had physical bodies at that moment, but Gabriel still managed to wrap his arms around his Father and squeeze.

There was something like a chuckle from Him.  _ No one actually chuckles,  _ Gabriel thought, but he was too relieved to care.

This was all he'd  _ wanted.  _ For Him to  _ be there.  _ It wasn't about free will or taking orders or who left first.

It was just family.

He was hugging back, and Gabriel practically melted into Him. It was like - there wasn't even an equivalent. Nothing on Earth could compare to it.

Eventually, though, He drew back, and Gabriel tried to hide his disappointment.

"You get into so much trouble," God said fondly. "Even when you were younger. I used to wish I could just do that all the time to keep you still and in one place."

"You could have." Gabriel probably wouldn't have objected.

God shook His head. "However much trouble you caused, I never wanted to limit you," He said. "Even if you seem to have gotten into worse situations now."

"...Yeah." A phantom ache passed over him, making Gabriel shift to try and get rid of it. "You don't...what about the Knights?"

"I believe you've already taken care of that," He said.

A flash of memory passed over Gabriel. Hadn't he collapsed...? "I'm not-"

"Dead? No, of course not." God reassured him. "You're going to be fine, Gabriel."

Coming from Him, it was actually very reassuring.

"I was hoping we wouldn't have another situation like the Elysian." His Father did sound relieved. "I'm glad you won."

"Faking my death would be kind of pointless," Gabriel said, wondering if He had intended it as a joke. Bringing up the Elysian was...anyway. "And she would have realized that the blade was fake."

"A fake blade," God said. There was something unusual about the words. "At the Elysian?"

"Yeah," Gabriel said. Shouldn't He know this already if He was, apparently, watching? "That's how I got out. Did you...skip that bit?"

His Father didn't answer.

"...What?"

"Gabriel." There was something heavy about his name. "There was no fake blade."

"I-" What? "No, I  _ remember- _ " What had he made it out of? "If it wasn't fake then I would have d-" He couldn't say it.

A hand - or something like it - cupped his face, his Father looking down at Gabriel with sympathy. "Your Grace," He murmured. "With so much of it gone, you had such a human reaction...I'd nearly forgotten that you didn't remember."

"Remember-" No. This wasn't - he  _ hadn't- _

God gave him a sad smile. "I may not have shown myself publicly, then," He said, "but that does not mean I didn't interfere at all. My best work is when no one realizes I am there."

"You-" Brought him back. He didn't  _ need  _ to be brought back. "I'm  _ not  _ de-" Gabriel's voice broke mid-word.

"No," He said. "And I expect you to stay that way for a long time yet."

Gabriel clutched at the hand on his face. "What is this?" He asked. "Why come talk to me? To - fix things? Are You even really here or am I just dreaming?"

He hadn't even finished the sentence and he could already feel His presence fading. "Of course it's a dream," his Father said, "but why on Earth should that mean it's not real?"

* * *

 

_ Oh God, this is so stupid. _

_ Lucifer is already there, he's seen him, Gabriel can't turn back now. He can hear the screech of tires outside, but he doesn't dare look farther, doesn't dare take his eyes off Lucifer for a second. _

_ "You disloyal-" _

_ "Oh, I'm loyal." Why did he let Dean Winchester persuade him that this was a good idea? There are bodies scattered everywhere, dead  _ gods,  _ not dead for good but dead for now and bloody and broken. _

_ He doesn't have anything left but the faint hope that his illusion might actually  _ work.  _ Please, please, let it work. Let it fool him. _

_ "So you're willing to die for a pile of cockroaches...why?" Lucifer is curious, his distraction is working, he just needs to get behind his brother without Lucifer noticing- _

_ Gabriel doesn't know if he can actually kill him. _

_ His vessel is reacting weirdly, heart going faster than normal, and he knows enough of humanity to know that it's reacting to  _ him.  _ His emotions. _

_ He's been in this vessel for a long time. _

_ Hopefully he will  _ stay  _ in it. _

_ "But a lot of them try. To do better. To  _ forgive. _ " He can see Lucifer pause at that, a tiny, tiny shred of doubt, and Gabriel is suddenly, sharply pleased with himself. _ He  _ put that doubt there. _

_ If only the rest of his plan would work, too. _

_ "Brother, don't make me do this." _

_ "No one makes us do anything." It's a smartass, whip-fast retort, and Gabriel doesn't want to think about Lucifer calling him brother, not with what he's about to do. _

_ "I know you think you're doing the right thing..." _

_ Gabriel's behind him, now. Lucifer's still facing the illusion. _

_ "But I know where your heart..." _

_ He raises the blade. _

_ "Truly lies." _

_ Hesitates. _

_ It's that which costs him. _

_ Lucifer turns sharply and Gabriel freezes and there is an ice-cold hand around his and the blade and ohG _

_ odno _

_ please thathurts _

_ His own blade is sinking into his vessel and Gabriel's true self screams with pain, atoms and bits of  _ himself  _ are breaking apart around the silver sharpness and Lucifer keeps _ holding  _ it there. _

_ "Amateur hocus-pocus," he croons, looking down on Gabriel with shadowed eyes. Gabriel can't say anything, there's blood in his throat and he's clutching at Lucifer's arm because he can't stay standing and his brother - _ killer -  _ is all that's holding him up. "Don't forget, you learned everything from _ me, _ little brother." _

_ There's affection in his voice, and that pains him just as much as the fact that Gabriel is literally breaking apart and burning up, particle by particle, around the sword in his stomach. _

_ Lucifer's hand tenses and the blade twists and goes _ up _ and _ deeper _ and Gabriel screams and _ burns.

* * *

 

Gabriel jolted upright, eyes shooting open and hands flying to his chest and  _ fuck, ow- _

There was a sharp scuffle of movement and someone grabbed his hands (theirs were warmer than Lucifer's ever were) in the time that it took Gabriel to realize that the pain in his chest was a steady, dull ache that only sparked into real pain when he moved.

Not the piercing pain he'd remembered.

He wasn't burning up.

"Gabriel?"  _ Michael _ \- ne sounded anxious, and ne was holding Gabriel's hands like ne thought he was going to injure himself with them.

"I - I'm - I'm okay," Gabriel gasped out.

"No, you're not." Michael sounded  _ really  _ worried. "Lie back down."

"I-"

"Lie  _ down,  _ you're going to open that up if you're not careful."

Gabriel let Michael push him back onto the bed, looking down at his chest. There was a pale, white line where he'd been cut - the barest scratch over his heart down to a thick, raised part just over his hip.

Gabriel ran his fingers over it experimentally and winced when probing sent a flash of pain up the scar.  _ Ow.  _ Mental note; don't do that. His true form didn't look nearly as good.

"Stop it." Michael batted his hand away.

"I'm kinda wondering," Gabriel said, feeling oddly breathless (probably because his lungs were in his chest, where he'd been stabbed), "how you think I'm gonna open that."

"It's just the vessel that was healed all the way." Michael was leaning on the side of the bed, giving Gabriel a glancing once-over. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit." The scar marked a constant, dull ache in his body that made Gabriel think it was probably a bad idea to try and sit up. Gabriel made a face at Michael. "Don't hover. It's weird."

"You almost  _ died. _ " Gabriel wasn't expecting Michael's sudden anger. "I'm allowed to be  _ worried,  _ you - do you even  _ remember  _ how bad you were hurt?"

"Yes," Gabriel said. "It kind of happened to me."

Michael groaned and sank into a chair that Gabriel hadn't noticed before. One leg was extended awkwardly, like Michael was trying not to use it.

"Don't say 'I told you so'," Gabriel said.

"I'm not going to say 'I told you so'. I'm not five," Michael said. " _ Never  _ do that again, Gabriel."

"I don't need you to tell me to stay out of life-threatening situations."

"I'm serious," Michael said. "I  _ cannot _ show up somewhere and find you looking half dead again. I can't."

"...Right." This was straying into touchy-feely territory that Gabriel was not entirely comfortable with. "Um. I'll keep that in mind next time I run into someone like that. I didn't hallucinate killing her, did I?"

Michael frowned. "Have you been?"

"No. I just thought I'd make sure."

"They're both dead."

"Fabulous." Gabriel looked at his surroundings properly. The hospital wing seemed to be empty, apart from him and Michael. "Where's everyone else?"

"Gone," Michael said. "I asked Castiel and the rest of them to make sure no demons managed to escape. And term's over, so there's not many people still in the school."

"Hogwarts after dark," Gabriel muttered. The windows cast a frame of reddish light on the walls that told him the sun was setting. Wait. Setting? "How long have I been here?"

"Almost an entire day," Michael said. "Are you tired?"

" _ No _ , Michael." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I am lying in a bed and not moving. Isn't that what people are supposed to do when they're hurt?"

"As long as you actually  _ stay  _ in bed," Michael said. "I think 'still' might be a little too much to hope for."

"Pffft." Staying still was boring, anyway. "Seriously. What do you think's going to happen to me?"

"I'm trying to make sure nothing else does," Michael said. "At least let me feel like I'm doing something to help."

"...Fair enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I make up for the cliffhanger yet?
> 
> If any of you feel like rereading, I wrote the scene with Gabriel and God while listening to 'Noble Maiden Fair' from the Brave soundtrack, which I think really lends the right air to it, if you feel like checking that out.


	75. Final Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaaaaaat, last chapter already! Still a little crazy that I actually wrote this whole thing.
> 
> If you like soundtracks, listen to Taylor Davis's 'The Last Goodbye' during the last scene.

Gabriel had been perfectly fine with staying in the bed.

In  _ theory.  _ But doing nothing but lying there was so. Boring. He'd barely lasted through the night before the urge to get up had swamped him. Michael, though, had given him a narrow-eyed stare like ne knew exactly what Gabriel was thinking.

That, and his chest was still so sore that just sitting up was an adventure in pain tolerance levels and how much he could push them.

It wasn't as though he'd been left alone - Castiel and Muriel had returned near midnight, having finished with the demons Paimon and Belial had mustered. Most of the other angels who had been recruited (very few of whom Gabriel had actually seen) had returned to Heaven.

Aziraphale popped in from somewhere - most likely the Hogwarts library - and when Balthazar made his way in the sun was casting yellow squares through the windows and Gabriel had demanded that someone get some more pillows to prop him up because it was really awkward lying down and trying to talk to people.

"You look like crap," Balthazar said, settling onto the end of his bed.

"Thanks," Gabriel said dryly.

"You took a while to come back," Michael noted.

"I went by Gabriel's place," Balthazar said. "Thought I'd make sure the wards held. There was some nastiness around there the other night."

Gabriel's attention locked onto him. "No one's-"

"They're all fine," Balthazar said. "None of them went outside, as far as I can tell. I told them you might take a while to come back, and then they demanded an explanation as to why."

"Oh." Thoughts of going back and having to explain what had happened hadn't even crossed Gabriel's mind.

"They're worried," Balthazar said eventually when Gabriel stayed silent. "I had to talk them out of trying to come here to visit you."

"Not a good idea," Michael said. "Those boys climb all over you."

"They wouldn't if they knew I was hurt," Gabriel said, but he really wasn't in the mood for a ton of visitors, family or not. "Thanks, though," he told Balthazar. "For letting them know what happened."

"Not a problem," Balthazar said honestly, which was at least two surprises in one. "I mean you're hardly in a situation where you can do it yourself."

"Don't remind me." Gabriel let his head tip back so he was staring at the ceiling, which wasn't very interesting. "If Michael has nir way I'll be here forever."

"If it takes that long for you to heal." There was a smile on Michael's face.

"Psshh, I'll be outta here in no time." Gabriel turned to look at the two of them.

"Sure," Balthazar deadpanned. "Meanwhile I suppose it's now my job to make sure none of your kids manage to sneak in here and cause chaos."

"We're not even in the same country as they are," Michael said.

"They're  _ Gabriel's  _ kids."

"Yeah, Michael," Gabriel said. "Come on. You think I wouldn't pass on this ingenuity?"

"You call it ingenuity," Michael said. "I doubt anyone else does."

"What do you call it, then?"

"Causing trouble?" Balthazar suggested.

"Not really," Michael said. "I was going to say it's more like you have a tendency for disaster."

Gabriel snorted and immediately regretted it when it managed to trigger a strike of pain in his chest. "Usually I manage to get  _ out  _ of whatever disaster I'm in the middle of."

"The fact that you say 'usually' and not 'all the time' proves my point."

"Yeah, yeah, fine. You can say I'm wrong all you want, I'm still right."

* * *

 

It manifested first as an itch.

It was just one more thing on a whole list of things that had been plaguing Gabriel the whole time he'd been stuck in the stupid bed (there was one time every day where the sun came through the windows at exactly the right angle to shine in his eyes. Michael was usually there so Gabriel couldn't just snap up a pair of curtains, and when he complained Michael just raised nir eyebrows and told him to deal with it).

So he ignored it, dismissing it as a symptom of him being low on Grace again and still injured.

Except it didn't go away like he was pretty sure most itches did.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Aziraphale asked at some point the day after Balthazar showed up.

"Doing what?" Gabriel had kicked his blankets aside earlier, leaving them half hanging off the bed and him enjoying  _ not  _ having his feet stuck under the blanket. He was hardly hanging off the bed, but to be honest he'd done it just to have something to do.

"You keep scratching your arm," Aziraphale said. Michael glanced up from nir book, giving Gabriel a once-over.

"I'm fine," Gabriel said dismissively. "It's just an-"

He looked down at his arm and froze.  _ Fuck.  _ Nothing could go right for him, could it?

Michael was next to him in a second. Gabriel had clamped one hand over the irritated spot - reflex and some sort of panic, like that was going to do anything to fix it - but Michael pried his fingers away.

Ne stared, for a moment, then swore. Ne seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"Oh, dear." Aziraphale was hovering behind Michael. "You don't think it's because of-"

"Because of what?" Michael rounded on Aziraphale. "If you-"

"Aziraphale didn't do anything," Gabriel interrupted, rolling off the bed. If he went fast - nope,  _ ow.  _ It still hurt, but at least he'd managed to stand without bending at the waist.

"Gabriel-"

"Don't tell me to lie back down, my vessel's wearing through," Gabriel snapped.

"I can tell you whatever I want and you  _ need  _ to listen," Michael retorted. "What did  _ you  _ do, if Aziraphale wasn't involved?"

"That may be an exaggeration," Aziraphale muttered. "To say I wasn't involved, that is."

"Then  _ explain _ !"

"Chill out for  _ three  _ seconds, Michael." The look leveled at Gabriel for that comment wasn't enough to dissuade him. "It was a backup plan."

"A backup plan," Michael repeated. " _ What  _ kind of-"

"I took this vessel’s magic core out."

Unadulterated shock flashed across Michael's face, then came back and stayed for good. "You  _ what _ ?"

"It was a good plan!" Gabriel said defensively. "It worked! Didn't you wonder why it looked like something exploded?"

"You're telling me you used your own magic as an  _ explosive _ ?"

"Technically it's not even mine!" Gabriel gestured widely and then winced when the movement pulled at his chest.

"And this somehow made your vessel fragile enough that  _ this  _ happened?" Michael gestured sharply at Gabriel's arm where, very clearly, his Grace was wearing through the body he was contained in.

"It was noted that that might be a side effect," Aziraphale muttered. "Not in quite so specific words, but..."

"Whatever!" Michael snapped.

"It  _ worked, _ " Gabriel repeated. "Losing one vessel isn't the end of the world."

"You're still hurt-"

"Yeah, and I'm still gonna be hurt when this vessel wears through, and we  _ all  _ know what's gonna happen if I'm still here when that happens." An archangel suddenly without a vessel? Not pretty.

"You can't just shoot off and find a new one," Michael protested.

"I don't need to," Gabriel replied immediately.

"You don't?" Aziraphale looked baffled. "Have you been keeping track of the bloodline?"

Michael's brows drew down sharply over nir eyes. "Tell me you don't mean Adam."

" _ No,  _ I am not planning on possessing Adam." Gabriel restrained his impatience and concentrated on trying to find where his shoes had gone. "My  _ last  _ vessel didn't wear out, I just had to ditch it." The memory crossed his mind again and Gabriel ignored it. He wasn't about to explain how he'd managed to lie to even himself.

"Oh, so you're only planning on crossing  _ universes. _ " Michael had crossed nir arms. "For a vessel you don't even know is still there-"

"Where else would it have gone?" He'd been planning on going back a few years to make sure - and who wanted a vessel that had been lying around for ages in a rotting hotel?

"I'm coming with you."

"No."

"You're still hurt-"

"I  _ know, _ " Gabriel snapped. "I can do this on my own, you know. I'll come back afterwards so you can get your fill of worried fretting or whatever."

"This is too dangerous-"

"It is  _ not  _ dangerous, you're just being paranoid."

"You haven't recovered," Michael retorted. "You're still low on Grace and it's going to be difficult enough to use it properly even if you  _ were _ at full power-"

"Let me do  _ one  _ thing where you're not hovering over me, Michael. I'm not going to drop dead if I fly somewhere!"

"I'm trying to stop you from making your injury even worse-"

"I know what I'm doing!" Gabriel was sick of Michael being such a mother hen (and wasn't that something he'd never seen coming). "Contrary to whatever you seem to believe about me. I  _ need  _ a new vessel, and I can do it without 'making myself worse', thank you very much."

Michael visibly hesitated. "Fine," ne said reluctantly. "But you'd better come back quickly."

"I'll probably hang around there for a little while afterwards." He  _ would  _ need some time to recover. "If I'm gone longer than a week then feel free to panic, but I'll probably be fine."

"What about Harry Potter?" Aziraphale questioned.

Both archangels turned to look at him. Gabriel glanced at Michael - nope, ne didn't look like they understood what Aziraphale was talking about either.

"What about him?" Michael asked. "He's dead, isn't he?"

"For a while," Gabriel said.

"Yes," Aziraphale said, "but I thought everyone was under the impression that you  _ were  _ him? If you suddenly vanish, then the wizarding world is going to have questions."

Right. Crap.

"One thing," Gabriel muttered. "All I need is for  _ one thing  _ to go right for me for once. Fine. I'll make a pit stop."

"To do what?" Aziraphale looked puzzled.

"Fake Harry Potter's death. Obviously."

* * *

 

The Elysian Hotel. Five years previously, or something like that, in that universe's timeline.

Gabriel had practically inched backwards through time, getting warier and warier the closer he got. The last thing he wanted was to run into Lucifer - again.

He ended up within an hour of the hotel being completely abandoned.

It had reverted to the old, half-destroyed state - there weren't any gods around to keep it pristine anymore.

There were still traces of power in the building - frayed, faint traces of gods.

And archangels.

Gabriel (vessel-less and probably scorching the walls and floors and ceilings as he passed) did his best to avoid the latter. The lingering cold spots didn't do anything to help him.

More of the exact opposite, really, given his newly rediscovered memories.

Gabriel moved on.

His vessel was where he'd left it - sprawled on the floor. Gabriel hovered for a moment. Baldr was still where he'd been thrown, tossed into the corner - not Baldr, though, just the physical remains of what he'd been.

There wasn't much blood around Gabriel's former vessel.

The room was dark but Gabriel could make out the stains clear as day - ashy imprints burned into the floor, onto part of the tablecloth when he'd spread them in a desperate attempt to yank himself away.

It hadn't worked.

Gabriel shivered, or at least made a movement that was a close approximation of it, but he couldn't look away when he didn't technically have eyes.

Gabriel sank into the vessel, Grace and the rest of him piling in and filling in all the little corners. It fit like that one old t-shirt every human seemed to have, worn to the shape of him from so many years of use and as comfortable as a vessel was ever going to be for someone whose true form was the size of Jupiter. Even outside of it, he’d been cramped, but it wasn’t so bad inside a body.

Taking vessels involved a certain amount of bending the laws of physics to be able to fit in them, but Gabriel knew what he was doing.

When he inhaled, his lungs itched with the dust that was heavy on the air. At least it wasn't disuse - technically, the last time he'd inhabited the body he'd returned to was half an hour ago.

His back felt unusually sore. There was ash in the air, too, and the smell of it seemed to have permeated everything. The room smelled like a wildfire, and it didn't help that Gabriel had burned part of the doorway coming through in his true form.

Gabriel fumbled, feeling out of place and yet perfectly situated in his body. His fingers found a damp spot on his shirt - just over his stomach - that made him pause, nervousness winning for a moment.

He healed it in a second, blood vanishing, body knitting back together, but he still lay there for a few moments to convince himself that he really was fine.

He didn't try to sit up. Gabriel rolled over, figuring that he could push himself to his feet, and only realized how much of a bad idea that was when he was put literally face-to-face with the scorched imprint of his own wings.

Gabriel closed his eyes, stretched his wings just to reassure himself (they, at least, didn't hurt) and used the table to pull himself to his feet.

He blinked, standing still for a few moments and trying to reorient himself. Even a few moments without a vessel had seriously affected his orientation in one. "I got this," he muttered to himself.

He still felt like shit, though. He could tell that his injury from Belial was going to leave a mark on this vessel, too - it was bad enough.

A breeze drifted through the room, stirring up more dust and ash, and it felt unusually cool on his back. Gabriel snapped his fingers. The jacket and shirt knit themselves back together where the fabric had been burned away, changing to become something different - he liked the jacket, sure, but it would just be weird to walk away wearing the exact same thing he'd worn then.

The use of Grace pulled at what he had left uncomfortably - he'd already used more than he really should have, setting up his last vessel and then coming here. However loath he was to admit it, Michael had been right about that much.

Well. He had a week to himself to let his Grace recharge, and a little brother hanging out with some humans who could probably use someone messing with them.

* * *

 

Gabriel knew he was late.

He'd meant to be. He'd arrived a while after the service had started, leaning casually against a tree on the hill that sloped up from the graveyard, a separate party than those grouped among the tombstones.

Most of the funeral party had gathered in the church next door. Not because they were Christian - he really doubted any of them had even considered becoming religious in any way more dedicated than celebrating Christmas - but because it was the nearest building that had offered to house them afterwards.

Gabriel passed over the fence easily, making his way towards where there was a freshly overturned plot. He stopped at the side of it, not willing to step on grave dirt.

It was probably rude, and Gabriel reflected that it was a rare occasion where he knew someone he wasn't willing to be that rude to.

The tombstone itself was pure white, like the double one next to it, and probably made of marble.

_ Harry Potter _

_ July 31, 1998 - June 20, 2015 _

The date was wrong. Gabriel considered changing it, but someone would probably change it back once they noticed. After all, as far as most of the wizarding world was concerned, Harry Potter  _ had  _ lived to be nearly seventeen.

Not one year old.

"You had kind of a sucky life," Gabriel told the grave. "Sorry about the whole possessing you thing. Not personal."

He patted the grave and turned around, meaning to leave.

"I don't mind." The voice was very young.

Gabriel turned back around, and raised his eyebrows. "What are you still doing here?"

The spirit perched on top of the gravestone regarded him curiously. The boy's attention only lasted so long - he looked down at what he was sitting on, one hand reaching down towards the name.

"That's me." He sounded fascinated.

"Yep," Gabriel said. "I thought you were gone?" He had thought that the last he would see of Harry Potter was when the spirit had given him permission to use him as a vessel.

Harry didn't answer him. Just looked thoughtfully at his name, carved into stone.

The spirit vanished in a wash of blue, fading away on the wind and drifting upwards.

Gabriel huffed out a laugh. Even dead, Harry Potter still managed to surprise him.

"Have a nice afterlife, kid."

He turned on his heel and made his way towards the gate.

Gabriel paused just outside the fence, taking in his surroundings. Godric's Hollow, while home to a current funeral party, was still alive with the rest of the town out and about. A nearby window cast golden light onto the ground, competing with the remnants of sunlight that cast everything in a reddish gold tint and sent long shadows stretching across the ground.

He could tell there were plenty of people making the most of the night that was about to descend, having fun and with no plans to return home until much, much later in the night. It wasn't even night yet - evening was when people were first going out and barely even tipsy.

Gabriel wasn't much in the mood to join that crowd, at the moment. Chronic pain had a way of dampening a person's urge to party.

Whatever decision he might have made was made for him when someone shouted out from behind him. "Gabriel!"

Hermione looked hugely relieved to see him, nearly racing down the road. She threw her arms around him, hugging (gently - Michael must have warned her).

"Nice to see you, too," Gabriel said, patting her back awkwardly - she'd trapped his arms at his sides. "How'd you know it was me?"

"I pointed you out." Michael came up behind her as Hermione let go. "I thought you'd be here sooner." Nia was lingering a couple feet behind nem, keeping a curious eye on the three of them but seemingly letting them have their space.

"Not a fan of funerals," Gabriel said. "They're depressing."

Hermione shrugged and made a face in a way that probably meant 'fair enough'. "You're alright?"

"Good as new." Gabriel spread his arms. "New and improved vessel, too - well, not really new, but it's definitely an improvement."

Hermione smiled at that. "I didn't think you would come back," she said. "You never seemed like you were the biggest fan of the magical world."

"Oh, come on." Gabriel grinned. "How could I leave without saying goodbye?"

"Are you leaving?" Michael asked.

Gabriel shrugged. "I dunno. I'd hate to displace the kids. They seem to like London." What they’d seen of it, at least. Talking about them made Gabriel twitchy. He’d been away for a week - they were probably dying to see him again and make sure he was okay. 

"I'm glad," Hermione said. She looked more serious now. "I'd hate not to see you again."

"I'd  _ visit _ ," Gabriel said. “Do you think I’d just ditch you? C’mon. How long have we been friends?”

“Just making sure.” A smaller smile lurked in the corner of Hermione’s mouth. “I’d hate for you to run off and do your angel things.”

“I think you’re just as important.” Gabriel glanced briefly at Michael. “Besides, angel stuff isn’t that important.”

“If you say so. Don’t be a stranger, Gabriel.”

“I promise.” Gabriel hugged her again, on impulse. 

“What will you do now, then?” Michael asked as they separated. “If not ‘angel stuff’.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s a big ol’ world out there.” Gabriel grinned at nem. “I’m sure there’s something to do.” He clapped a hand to Michael’s shoulder. “Don’t worry so much.”

“I wasn’t worrying.” 

“Sure. Besides,” Gabriel said, pointing at Hermione and then Michael. “I got you, I got you - what could possibly go wrong?”

“Don’t jinx it,” Hermione warned jokingly.

“Nah,” Gabriel said confidently. “I’m no prophet, but I can tell you one thing for sure. It’s all gonna work out fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep an eye out for more stuff in this 'verse ;)
> 
> It's been real, guys. Thanks for sticking with me the whole way.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment, guys! I love to hear from you.


End file.
